Serving Girls

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Serving GirlsIt was only supposed to be a part-time cleaning job, a bitof extra money to help pay off the credit card bills. Afterall, it was common knowledge in the town where I livedthat Mrs Simmons was always looking for maids, cleanersand other staff to help run her massive hilltop mansion.But as you’ve probably guessed from the fact that I’mtaking the time to write this story, from the moment that Iarrived for my interview I could never have imaginedwhat would happen next, and I’m still not quite sure if itdid.Of course, if I’d even suspected that Mrs Simmons wasengaged in anything untoward then I never would haveapplied for the job in the first place. But then again, Isuppose that the best kept secret is one that everyoneknows about but that nobody ever mentions, meaning thatI probably just happened to apply for the job a few weeksbefore the rumours filtered down to my level.Even if I had been aware of the gossip however, Iprobably would have laughed it off as an exaggeratedjoke. After all, Mrs Simmons looked about as dangerousand subversive as a plastic Barbie Doll, an impression thatwas probably helped by the fact that the plastic ‘DreamHouse’ lifestyle was the one thing that she had spent herwhole life trying to emulate.A tall, slim and beautiful blonde in her early forties,Janet Simmons had married for money at the age ofs*******n and been widowed at the age of twenty-six,inheriting a hilltop mansion, two yachts and a fleet of carswhich, as a telling statement of things to come, sheimmediately painted bright baby pink.Every item of clothing, every pair of stilettos, everylipstick, and every bottle of nail varnish, everything thatshe owned was either white or baby pink. But whileanyone else would have been considered insane, since shewas a millionaire who was desperate to spend every pennyof her fortune, Mrs Simmons was merely eccentric and wewere all more than happy to help her achieve her goals.It was common knowledge that, if you wanted to workfor Mrs Simmons, it really helped your application if youhappened to fit her mental image of a perfect living doll.And so, ironically, for the first time in my life, being talland very slim with long red hair and legs to die for turnedout to be a serious problem, even though I didn’t realize ituntil it was far too late.Whether you were a potential pin-up girl or nothowever, the cardinal rule for anyone who wanted to workfor Mrs Simmons was that you had to play along with her‘Barbie Girl’ delusions. And so in my naivety, thinkingthat it was nothing more than a harmless role-playingfantasy, on the day of my interview I dolled myself upwith bright pink blusher, lipstick and nail varnish, woremy skimpiest and sexiest white T shirt, pink mini-skirt andstrappy white stilettos. And from the moment that I parkedmy car, walked up to the main gate and buzzed themansion’s intercom, I beamed inanely from ear to ear andemptied my head of every meaningful thought.‘Hello?’ Asked Mrs Simmons in her usual sickly sweettone of voice.‘Hello, Mrs Simmons.’ I beamed, perfecting the role ofthe air-headed bimbo before I’d even been allowed in thefront door. ‘My name is Lucy. I’d like to come and workfor you, and so you said that I should come and see youtoday.’It was really difficult for me not to use the words‘appointment’ or ‘interview’. But then again, Barbie dollsaren’t supposed to use such long and complicated words.‘Come in then, darling,’ she invited warmly as the maingates swung open to allow me inside. ‘I’ll ask one of mymaids to let you in as soon as you arrive.’Not wanting to upset my future employer with the sightof anything that wasn’t pink, I left my Peugeot parkedoutside and walked up the main driveway towards thehouse as seductively as possible, past more than half adozen sexy female gardeners who were also dressed inbaby pink mini-skirts and grinning from ear to ear.‘Hello, madam,’ beamed the sexy Asian maid whoanswered the front door in the same ‘Stepford Wife’manner. ‘Mrs Simmons is waiting for you. Please followme.’I never did learn the woman’s name, but as I followedher through the marble-clad reception hall and up the mainflight of stairs, I couldn’t help but notice gaziantep escort the fact that shelooked more like a strip-o-gram than a normal domesticmaid.Leaving aside the fact that she was sexier than I waswith a gorgeous dark complexion, long ‘shampoo advert’hair, a perfect hourglass figure and legs that most womenwould kill for, her skimpy pink uniform was so kinky anderotic that it almost made me want to fuck her.It was the most perfectly tailored piece of smut that I’veever seen in my life. And despite being completelystrapless, it still managed to present her gorgeous cleavagefor the whole world to see, while at the same time leavingher delectable back and shoulders on display.Her skirt too, such as it was, was as short and skimpy asanyone could ever have gotten away with, puffed up withlayer upon layer of lacy white petticoats that left evenmore of her legs, rump and pussy on display.As I followed her up the long marble staircase, Icouldn’t help but be amazed at how elegantly she was ableto walk in her 5” baby pink stiletto heels. But of course,having taken the time to appreciate the bows of her whitesatin stocking and suspenders and the intricate embroideryof her petticoats, it wasn’t long before the only thing that Icould think about was her smooth, naked pussy.I think that this was my first real moment of doubt andpanic. What if all of Mrs Simmons’s domestic staff wasrequired to dress like this? What if she was a total pervert?Looking back on it now ,of course, I suppose it’s easyto say that I should have just turned around and walkedback to my car without another word. But while I knowthat if my future employer had been a man then I wouldhave run screaming to the nearest police station, the veryfact that Mrs Simmons was a woman left me so confusedthat I didn’t know what to do.‘She doesn’t look like a dyke,’ I thought to myself, justproving how naïve, ignorant and prejudiced I really was.I just simply couldn’t conceive of the possibility that awoman who was obsessed with the Barbie doll lifestylecould be a lesbian. And so because I couldn’t understandit, I simply pushed it to the back of my mind andpretended that it didn’t exist.‘Mrs Simmons, your guest is here,’ announced the maidas she showed me through to her mistress’s parlour.‘Thank you, darling,’ she said dismissively. ‘You cango now.’Despite the lateness of the hour and her perfect makeupand hair, like every good playgirl living in the lap ofluxury, Mrs Simmons was dressed in a beautifully tailoredsatin corset and fur lined gown with furry pink stilettoheeledslippers and white silk stockings and suspenders,all of which seemed to have been deliberately chosen fortheir erotic sensuality. And as she lay there seductively,casually displaying the tops of her thighs and her huge ripecleavage, I did actually wonder if I had accidentallywalked into a ‘Playboy’ photo shoot.Sprawling decadently across her plush pink velvet sofaas she sipped her champagne and nibbled her Belgianchocolates, it was fully five minutes before Mrs Simmonseven acknowledged my existence. And since I was still toobusy trying to figure out if I should be trying to impressher or running for my life, I just stood there like amindless mannequin and smiled like a good little doll.As it turned out of course, this was the best, or possiblythe worst, thing that I could have done, because eventhough I didn’t realize it, the interview had already begun.Mrs Simmons wanted all of her staff to be as patient asa saint, willing to stand seductive and motionless for hourson end without ever breathing a single word. And so whenthe woman did finally stand to greet me, she was verypleased indeed.‘Hello, Lucy,’ beamed the woman as she walked up tome and gave me a long, intimate hug, putting her cheek tomine and kissing the air to avoid smudging her lipstick.‘I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.’‘That’s alright, Mrs Simmons.’ I smiled in assent. ‘Idon’t mind at all.’Once I’d said that however, I quickly realized that I’dburned my bridges behind me and committed myself totaking the job. Because while it might sound completelyinsane, now that I’d said that I wanted to be there, I feltthat it would be rude of me to refuse her or to try andleave.‘Very pretty,’ she complimented in a smooth, seductivetone of voice as she lovingly examined my pert roundbreasts and slipped her hand up my skirt. ‘I see that you’veshaved your pussy for me. Yes, very nice indeed.’By this point of course, all doubt and uncertainty hadleft my mind. Every fibre in my body was screaming at meto turn around and run back to the car as fast as I possiblycould. But as Mrs Simmons leaned forward to give me along, loving kiss on the lips, even though I wanted to stopher, I quickly realized that I was behaving more obedientlythan ever before.It was as if my body was on auto-pilot. And while Iwanted to shout at the woman to leave me alone, when Iopened my mouth to yell at her, I heard myself saysomething completely different.‘Thank you, Mrs Simmons,’ I beamed as she continuedto compliment the smoothness of my pussy, evenspreading my legs a little further apart to facilitate herinspection. ‘I think that you’re very pretty as well.’I wanted to breathe a sigh of relief when Mrs Simmonsfinally turned to head back to her sofa. But instead, Iactually heard myself whimper with frustration when thegroping stopped. And while the second part of myinterview wasn’t quite as invasive as the first part hadbeen, it was still so humiliating that I literally wanted todie.Even though I couldn’t make myself leave, as MrsSimmons offered me a seat and began asking all sorts ofembarrassing questions, I’m certain that I should have atleast turned bright red with embarrassment. But as I satdown in the most lady-like fashion imaginable, stillgrinning from ear to ear and fluttering my eyelashes likean obedient bit of fluff, I didn’t even feel myself becomeflushed.‘So, do you like licking pussy?’ she smiled, as casuallyas if she were asking me about the weather.‘Yes, madam. Yes I do,’ I beamed in reply. ‘I’m a goodlittle girl and I’ll do whatever I’m told.’What the hell was happening to me? I might have takenpart in the odd ‘experiment’ when I was at school, but Icertainly wasn’t a lesbian. And even if I was, why would Ibe talking about licking pussy in front of a woman who I’donly just met?‘And would you like to lick my pussy?’‘Oh yes, madam,’ I panted, going down on all fours andcrawling up to the woman as she playfully uncrossed herlegs. ‘Please let me lick your pussy. I’m such a good littlegirl.’If I’d been watching someone else demean themselvesin such a humiliating manner I would have either stormedout in total disgust or simply closed my eyes and turnedaway. But as she revealed her smooth naked pussy, pettingmy head as if I was one of her pets as she lovingly guidedmy lips towards her slit, there was nothing I could do tostop myself as I felt my mouth begin to water with eageranticipation and my pussy became just as wet.‘That’s it, darling,’ she purred as patronizingly as couldbe, licking her lips with satisfaction as I greedily lapped ather smooth wet slit. ‘You lick Mummy’s pussy like a goodlittle girl.’There was nothing that I could do to stop myself as Igreedily buried my tongue inside her and licked andsucked as deeply as I could. I was even frigging the crotchof my white cotton panties so hard that I was actuallystarting to enjoy it.No matter what it was that Mrs Simmons had done toturn me into an obedient lesbian puppet, she now hadundeniable proof that it had worked perfectly. And nowthat she knew there was no chance of me being able tobreak her hold over me and escaping to tell other peoplewhat I had seen, she finally decided to ‘offer me the job’.‘Thank you darling, that’s enough.’ She smiled, gentlyeasing my mouth away from her pussy and slowly recrossingher legs.Once again it seemed that while I was glad to see theend of my humiliation, my body was still as eager as ever.And as I watched Mrs Simmons ring the tiny ornamental‘service’ bell on the table beside her seat, I actuallyremember wagging my bottom like a horny puppy andgrinning from ear to ear with her honey glistening on mylips.Mrs Simmons did ask me to stand back up before hermaids arrived, of course, and I obeyed at once like a goodlittle toy. But as two of the woman’s other mindlessplaythings entered the room and their mistress gave themtheir instructions, I quickly realized that my humiliationwas just beginning.‘Mary, Janet, this is Lucy,’ she introduced usgraciously, her pussy still tingling with orgasm after thelicking that I had given her. ‘Say hello, girls.’‘Hello Mary. Hello Janet.’ I waved, beamingmoronically like a character off Playschool.‘Hello Lucy.’ They waved just as ridiculously in reply.A tall stunning blonde and a brunette, dressed in thesame skimpy pink French maid uniform that I’d seenbefore, the women were both incredibly beautiful andsexy. And thanks to Mrs Simmons’s control over me, thevery sight of them made my pussy tingle more than ever.‘Lucy wants to work for me, just like you do,’explained the woman as her two French maids came overto touch, caress and compliment my body, cooing withdelight as if I were a cute little puppy. ‘Please make her allpretty and teach her everything that she needs to know.’‘Yes, Mrs Simmons,’ they curtsied. And the next thingI knew, I was being hurried out of the room anddownstairs to the servants’ quarters, ready to be bathed,powdered and dressed up in pink, ready to serve my prettynew mistress.‘Does that feel good?’ cooed Janet, having stripped menaked and helped me into a hot, delightful bubble bath,paying particular attention to my breasts and pussy.Whether it was how Mrs Simmons had programmedthem or not, the look of sexual lust on the pretty maid’sface as she eagerly lathered up my firm tanned breasts wasabsolutely undeniable. And of course, if I’d had a mirror,then I probably would have seen the same look on my ownface as well.Having stood me up and dried me off with towels sofluffy that they actually made me giggle, Mary and Janetthen gently applied soft white talcum powder all over mybody with huge fluffy powder puffs before wrapping meup in a soft pink bath robe and sitting me down to receivemy full makeover.As the sexy Asian maid expertly removed the varnishfrom my toenails and gave me the most relaxing pedicureof my life, Janet did the same to my fingers and Marywashed and styled my hair.I suppose that since Mrs Simmons spent almost half herlive being pampered in this manner; it was only naturalthat her domestic staff would be expert beauty ther****ts.And I must say that once Mary had removed my make-up,moisturised my skin and made my face up once again, Iwas absolutely astonished by the result.‘Are you a pretty little dolly now?’The maid giggled as she put away her make-up andbrushes.‘Oh yes,’ I gasped unable to look away from mybeautiful reflection or get over how wonderful I felt. ‘I’ma very pretty dolly indeed.’‘Well, now it’s time for us to dress you in youruniform,’ she squealed as she clapped her hands togetherwith glee. And five minutes later, I was gasping withdelight as I felt the soft silk and satin uniform andstockings gently caress my skin.I was a maid, I was a dolly, and I was also one of thegirls. And as Mary and Janet playfully instructed me in allof the skills and nuances that I would have to master, Iactually felt myself become so happy and horny that Iactually wanted to be Mrs Simmons’s sweet littleplaything more than anything else in the world.Tottering around the mansion in my 5” stiletto heelslike a typical Ooh la la French maid in a ‘Carry On’ film, Igot such a perverted sexual thrill from tickling around MrsSimmons furniture and nick-nacks with my fluffy pinkfeather duster that my pussy simply would not stopdripping. And when Mrs Simmons came to praise my hardwork and offered to reward me with a nice long lick of herpussy, I was so horny and eager to please her that Iliterally fell down onto my knees and hungrily worshippedher gorgeous slit.‘Do you like your new job then?’ asked my newgoddess as I desperately frigged my hot wet cunt, eagerlylicking her glorious pussy as the honey began to pourdown my chin.‘Oh yes, madam!’ I panted, stopping as briefly as Icould for a gasp of air before eagerly burying my tongueinside her once again. ‘I love being your pretty little dolly!Please let me be your maid for ever!’‘Hush, darling, don’t worry about a thing,’ she said inan increasingly sexy but ominous tone of voice. ‘I’ll neversend you away or ask you to leave. After all, I’ve got a lotof plans for you.’

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