The Maid For Pleasure Bundle 2 (2 page)

“Ma’am, we have
several
reports of a very dangerous man being in this vicinity, and—”

“Did you
see
him come in here?”

There was a heavy silence. My freedom hung there in that silence, suspended between two worlds. I would not have been surprised if they had seen me enter; I wouldn't have been surprised if they hadn't.

“Well, no, but—”

“Then you have no grounds to be in here. Good night, gentlemen. And the best of luck to you.”

The door shut. I felt relief pour through my body. Vivian strutted back in the room, her face blissful.

“There,” she said. “All done. I took care of them just as you asked, Master. Was I good?”

“Very,” I said.

My voice was quiet, all of me so tired.

I’d die in this chair; that was all right. Like I said, I'd certainly earned it. I only wished I could have seen Nora one more time. I didn't care if she didn't love me like I loved her; I didn't care if she only wanted to be with Willow. I wanted just to tell her she was good, that I loved her, that she was everything to me.

“My poor, poor dear,” she said, stroking my hair. “It’s going to be all right, okay? I will make it all okay, Master.”

She tugged her apron off, revealing her scintillating hot body to me. Her abs were toned, her skin entirely bronzed. Did she live in the sun? And her tits, so huge and plump, they were...

They were leaking milk. Milk just like the kind I had taken from the glass.

Smiling, she plopped her thick, milk-dripping tit into my mouth. Like a babe, I couldn't help but suck down. It was so damn delicious.

I passed out, still suckling.

* * * * *

I
woke slow. Pain had left my body, and only soreness remained. A trade-off I had no problem with.

Looking around, I found I was in a large, expensive-looking bedroom. The sort that rich types might have; the kind you see in magazines when you're waiting at the dentist's office. The bed had pillars—pillars!—and the sheets were silk. Ornate woodwork was engraved into the nearby bedside table. The tall window across the room was open, leading into an open balcony. Wind slipped through, curling the curtains into the room.

The wind sent a slight chill through my bones. I was naked, I realized, on top of the bed. I looked down at my body, and found no wounds present. Just faint scars—and even then, scars that indicated that the wounds had been healed for years.

I was confused. For several moments, I thought that perhaps the whole thing had been imagined. Not just arriving in the house—but the bank robbery, being chased by the police, the betrayal, hell, maybe even being part of a gang at all.

But no, the sting of Steel’s turn on me was too sharp still. That had to be real.

Maybe I should explain some.

My name is Pace. Probably you figured that out. At the time of arriving in the house with Vivian, I’d been the underboss in a gang called the Scorpions for about ten years, ever since I turned eighteen. Steel, the gang boss, was my best friend. He and I, working together, were the reason that he got to be in charge in the first place.

Steel was something of the brawn of the whole operation, and I was the brains. I had no trouble with that arrangement, and I thought Steel didn’t either. But over time, he got more and more jealous. He didn't like that every time there was a big heist, or a big weapons deal, or a big double-cross on another gang, I was the one who thought it all the way through. More and more, our boys started giving me more credit than him.

“You see all the angles, Pace,” Steel said to me a number of times, drunk off his ass. “All the angles. But you don't ever see me, do you?”

In the last couple years, he had been consumed with jealousy, with the drink, and with Duchess.

Duchess was his best girl. Lots of gangsters in the Scorpions had a best girl—I was one of the few who didn't. I only had eyes for Nora, and she only had eyes for Willow, but that was just the way.

Anyway, Duchess was a hot little brunette number who had Steel wrapped around her finger. She didn't like that I had Steel's ear, and had done a whole lot in the past few years to turn him against me. I didn't think it was anything that couldn't be reversed by a run of good fortune. So I came up with a plan—robbing the central bank at a time when it would have several million dollars floating through it.

I thought this bank deal was a way for us to make good. All the money we were gonna get? It would set us up for the next five or six years, at least. More if we invested it right.

Steel insisted that it be just me and him going in. I should have guessed his game then, but I didn't. We stormed into the place, knocking out the guards, and pacifying all the civvies. Nobody got hurt. It was going great.

And then, as soon as we got the money out of the vault, Steel turned on me.

“Sorry, Pace. But somebody’s gotta take the fall. Otherwise, the cops will never stop looking for us. They gotta have somebody to blame.”

He had a guard’s gun in his hands. He shot me three times. Just enough to keep me alive until the cops came.

Well, screw that. I wasn’t going to let him just use me.

I escaped into the street, running after Steel. He took our getaway car, though. I kept floating through the street, bleeding horrendously, and finally got some distance from the bank by hopping into the back of a garbage truck. It slowed in traffic, and I had to jump out off the highway into the forest. By that time it was getting dark, and the police were getting close and...well, that should just about catch you up.

In the bed at the house, I was still considering the situation and what to do next. Then I heard the tell-tale click of high heels approaching. Immediately, I felt my cock get hard. I remembered, with great explicitness, the way she had nursed me as I went to sleep. I hadn't expected to find it so erotic, so hot, to suck on her tit, but it really was.

Like an angel, Vivian walked in again, wearing nothing but golden lingerie and a tiny white apron. The apron was lacy, see-through, and I could see all of her incredible body right through it.

“You’re awake!” she exclaimed. “I’m
so
happy, Sir. Are you feeling better?”

I was happy to see her too, I found. This surprised me. I barely knew her, and yet, she felt like the only friend I had.

“Yes. How long...how long have I been here?”

“Oh, just a few days.”

“A
few days
?”

I was stunned. How had she talked off the police for that long?

Though, you know what? Never mind. She could convince me of basically anything if she kept looking at me with those big blue eyes. I figured she’d had little trouble convincing the police to fuck off.

“Yes, Sir. You had many wounds. You had to sleep them off.”

“Sleep them off? How do you sleep off a gunshot wound?”

“With the right mixture of sleep and medicine, Sir, anything is possible.”

She had slipped up onto the bed now, sliding her tiny lingerie and apron down and revealing her plump, milk-leaking tits. The warm substance immediately dripped on my skin, filling my mind with filthy thoughts. It was like her milk was lust incarnate, capable of shaping whoever touched it or tasted it into a better vehicle for providing hot, nasty sex.

“I don’t...ahhh...believe you.”

Her hand had wrapped around my cock—already stiffening—and I found myself losing the will to resist. Fuck, she was gorgeous.

“My milk is
especially
potent, Sir,” she said slowly. “You see, I’ve had nothing to do for months now. No sexual energy to expend. So, it all went into my milk. I’ve been taking
regular
doses of my happy fun bimbo pills, but since I don’t get fucked or bred by any huge, perfect studs like my Master Pace...well. It all just...goes into the milk.”

There was just a whole lot that needed explaining from that. Bimbo pills? Fucked and bred? And
what
goes into the milk?

“You take...pills that make you this way?”

“Oh yes, Sir. 44DD. They’re rather wonderful. I’d be perfectly happy without them, and perfectly sexy too. And, in fact, I was
supposed
to curtail my dosage when I first met my Owner, but then, you took so very long to arrive here.”

“You think I’m your Owner?”

I could feel myself matching her capitalization already. Her stroking picked up on my cock, thumb pushing into the thick head of my meat.

“Of course, Sir. You said so yourself. Don’t you want to be my Owner? Aren’t you glad that I’ll do every last little thing you say?”

I lay back on the bed, breathing hard. God, she was good at stroking a cock. I could feel my orgasm already sliding up to the surface. Her thumb mixed my precum around on the head of my dick, sliding expertly from shaft to head.

“You’re a sex slave,” I realized. “An honest-to-god sex slave.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “I’m a servant. And I love sex, it’s true. And I give it out happily for my Master and all his women, and his guests. Why, if you brought a whole bunch of men over, I'd love to sample all their cocks and cum, one by one. And I
love
to make more women
just
as happily sexified as I am. But I’m not a
slave
.”

Make other women...like her? Good lord.

“You’ll do whatever I order you to, though, right?”

She shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Especially sexual acts?”

“Oh my, yes.” She sighed happily.

“And how does that not make you a slave?”

“Because I don’t call myself that, silly.” Her strokes on my cock so urgent, so perfected in scope. “And I’m brilliantly happy doing everything you ask.”

“But someone
made
you that way.”

“Yes,” she nodded. “And thank goodness they did! I don’t remember, but I could only have been miserable before. Did you know I cum practically every five minutes now?”

Her stroking had increased in frequency. She must have sensed my incumbent orgasm somehow. The perfect sexual servant.

“From...from what?”

“Oh, just existing. I love it
so
much. Almost as much as I love cock.”

Cumming...from existing? It didn't seem real. But god, none of this did.

“Fucking...fuck. Fuck, okay. Fuck.”

I slammed my fist down on the bed, breathing fast now. I was going to cum.

“Yes...” her hand slid up my thighs. “Shall we fuck, Master? I’d love to indulge just a little bit today.”

“I...I’m gonna...fuck, Vivian, you’re gonna make me cum!”

“Oh!”

Eagerly, she slipped her hot mouth down on my cock just at the second of my orgasm, swallowing it all down. Her milky tits leaked down on my thighs as she swallowed. I pulsed load after load down her eager throat, more than I had ever unloaded before in my life. I was almost certain it was more than a cup full of cum, which was completely unheard of for me.

How on Earth was I unleashing so much? And how was she swallowing so much of it?

Slowly, she slid off my cock, licking and sucking all the way. She stared at me with worshipful, loving bright blue eyes. She looked high or drunk; intoxicated by swallowing my cum. A little dribble ran down her sexy, elegant neck. That was, coincidentally, an intoxicating thought.

“Sir had
so much
to give me,” she purred. “I’m so happy I was here to
assist
you.”

“Y-yeah,” I said, struggling.

Fuck me. I had just cum down a sex slave’s mouth. Or a sex
servant’s
mouth. She had just jumped on my cock, before I had a chance to say anything and...and...well.

She was so...so
eager
. So
happy
. She wanted it
so
bad. How could I say no? I
wanted
her to suck my cock, and she seemed to want it too.

“Listen,” I said, trying to put my thoughts together. “You’re hot as hell, but let’s take this slow, okay? I guess you’ve completely thought your way around the whole servitude thing, but I’m still getting used to it, and—oh fuck, how am I still fucking hard?”

Her hand was wrapped around my cock again, tugging gently, appreciatively. My cock was a mammoth nine inches long, and quite thick. Longer and thicker, mind you, than it had been before I was shot and showed up in this house.

“You’re hard because you’re a
real
man who needs to fuck his hot maid lots of times,” she said, full of cheer. “If you want, you could fuck my pussy right now...you could even get me
pregnant
.”

The way she said that last word, pregnant, was with a certain kind of reverence that was hard to ignore. She
wanted
it. It was like,
holy
to her to get pregnant, to be knocked up by a guy like me.

Or no, not a guy like me. Just me.

That was really fucking hot.

You see, I had long ago given up on the idea of having kids. Of having anyone at all, really. My heart and soul belonged to Nora, and Nora, well. She liked me fine, but she was a lesbian, so we weren’t ever exactly going to work out. I didn’t really like the situation, but the heart wants what the heart wants, and what the hell I wanted didn’t seem to matter much.

This trend continued, now, with Vivian sliding her tongue up and down my cock, encouraging me to fuck her.

Still, I tried to resist.

“Look, Vivian, you’re hot, and you know that.”

She licked harder. “Mmmhmm.”

“But look...I’m just not...totally comfortable with all of this.”

Maybe it surprises you, a biker with morals about women. But growing up with Nora as my best friend and the woman I wanted more than anything else, I’d learned a thing or two about objectifying women. I tried my honest best to not to do it. But Vivian was making it hard, and then me harder still. She slipped up next to me, her silky soft hair electric against my skin.

“If you fuck my tits,” she purred, pulling me on top of her slow, “it’s like you’re not fucking me at all. It wouldn’t count. It wouldn’t be anything to feel bad about.”

My cock ran up against the gently-perfumed, toned area of her midsection. She was so very soft. My hands landed on her breasts, completely bare now, and I felt my mind turn a switch.