A Rewarding Day's Work
You sit back and look at your reflection in the mirror. No fly aways, and you are getting faster at the makeup Ma'am insists that you wear while you are at work. Your closet has a week's worth of uniforms and the short skirt built into the bodice doesn't feel as revealing as it did when you started cleaning for Ma'am a few weeks ago. The white panties are just as tight feeling and the fabric pushes your girlybits forward. The small dresser in the back of the closet holds your stockings, garters and the fingerless mesh gloves that you do most of your work in.
A couple quick adjustments and the seams of your stockings line up correctly. You can't help but pull a couple fashion poses in the mirror hanging on the inside of the closet door. You've grown fond of the mirror as of late, Ma'am is correct, as she always is, you are beautiful. A peek at the clock tells you that your shift doesn't start for another ten minutes. The sensible flats that go with your uniform slip on easily enough. One last adjustment of your breasts and you pull a clean white apron from the small dresser and tie it atop the black uniform.
Might as well head to the kitchen, and see what rooms have been assigned to you today. None of your coworkers pass you on your way to check on your schedule, though you do see the cook tending to the kitchen during the down time between cooking meals. They hardly acknowledge you, but you offer them a good work day anyway. Library, and Ma'am's office before lunch. After lunch dust and vacuum all the hallways. This is the first day the office has been assigned to you on one of Ma'am's workdays. When she isn't busy giving lectures, she writes. Which means she will be watching you work. A quick bolt of self-consciousness strikes, but you dismiss it just as quickly.
The heavy wood doors to the library swing open with just the lightest touch. Each of the two-story bookcases manages to collect an unbelievable amount of dust in a week, and your legs get quite the workout climbing the movable ladder the dozen times it takes to rid the bookcases of dust. Thankfully, there are no books in the return bin, or you might be climbing up and down another dozen times. The antique wood desk gets another layer of polish added to the already gleaming finish. You finish off with a quick vacuuming, and return this floor's vacuum to the closet.
Silently, the door to Ma'am's office swings open. She doesn't like to be disturbed when working, so usually the senior maid will clean when Ma'am is working. The office looks much as it did when you have cleaned it in the past, except for the ravishing woman typing away on a keyboard. You shut the door just as quietly and begin doing the dusting, though with one slight change. She doesn't permit her staff to kneel while working unless it's to pick up a heavy item. As a result, you need to bend far forward, exposing whatever is under the slight skirt of your uniform. The handful of waist-high bookcases take a fraction of the time that the library bookcases did, but the cases of knick-knacks and pieces of memorabilia are complicated. You feel slightly winded and a little anxious after working around each piece in silence.
The front and sides of the desk still need to be polished, even while in use. It's difficult to work on the desk while keeping your legs straight, but you manage and a series of treated wipes let you bring out the brightest shine in the desk. This floor has an unpowered push vacuum for days Ma'am works, and while it's a hassle compared to the larger powered units, it IS silent. The room is fairly open and you can easily work the slim tool under the edges of the various cases. You give the room a once over as you fill the vacuum bag. Everything looks clean, and you were absolutely silent. Feeling content in a job well done, you turn to leave.
Ma'am addresses you in her quiet, yet commanding voice. “Do return once you replace the vacuum.” You turn to face your employer “Yes Ma'am, right away.” You retain your composure just as long as it takes for the door to close behind you. What did you do wrong? You were sure you didn't make a sound. There isn't much time to think about it however, as this floor's storage closet is only around the corner from the office. After you return the vacuum you take a moment to check your hair to see if any has gotten out of place. A couple deep breaths while walking back and you are at the door again. You turn the knob and walk back in, your employer at her desk still typing.
As before, you carefully close the door, not wanting to disturb her more than you have. You take a place standing before her in front of her desk and clasp your hands together as you wait for her to finish what she is doing and acknowledge you. Moments pass, and you stare at the back of the monitor. Your eyes dart around the room, trying to see if you missed an item. Perhaps you moved something out of place, but you can't see anything that isn't where it should be. You continue to carefully scan the room until Ma'am pushes the monitor aside on the articulated arm and it swings to the side of the desk.
“How has working here been for you? Have you found yourself adapting to your new routine?” The questions feel out of left field to you. It's been fabulous working here, the schedule and rules make living life so much simpler. And that is how you explain it to her. That, and the sense of purpose that you feel each day as you finish the work assigned to you. She sits, her fingers tented in front of her face thinking about your answers. You can't even try to read her face from as little as you can see of her. Finally she lowers her arms. “I have a similar position available for you. Mostly the same work, with some extra duties added. My personal care mostly.”
It takes you a fraction of a second to agree to the offer. The woman at the other side of the desk smiles, and you see the modestly panel at the front of the desk swing open, as silent as the door to the office. There is obviously no way to get in there without getting on your knees, and you crawl under the desk. From this view, you see that Ma'am isn't wearing any underwear. As you find a position under the desk, she hikes her skirt up, showing her hard girldick in full. Your chin just touches the antique leather seat of the chair as you slide her member into your mouth.
Her legs wrap around your back, an ankle pressing into your shoulder brings your face to her member. Your tongue runs gingerly along her cock, whatever she had been working on must have been exhilarating. Actually it must still be, as you hear her typing resume even as you play with her in your mouth. A perverse thrill runs down your spine while you work her girlshaft farther and farther down your throat. Within a few bobs of your head you can almost fit her whole girlcock down your throat. The legs wrapped around your back gradually tighten, and as you force the girldick deeper, now you can only pull it so far out.
From the position you are now in, you can only take air in while you are pulling away. When you plunge all the way forward, you can't breath at all. But you hardly notice this as each time you lean into her girlcock, Ma'am's body shudders slightly and you swear you hear her huff once or twice. You slide her in and out of your throat just fast enough to stay conscious. She must take pleasure from this as the typing finally ceases and fingers entwine themselves with your hair to guide your head, as she twists the position of her hips.
Her chair squeaks slightly as she thrusts her cock the rest of the way down your throat. Your eyes water, while her member throbs against your tongue, and pushes on the back of your neck. From the other side of the desk you hear a gasp and the girldick that has been rammed deeply down your throat pulses hard, before firing thick, gooey globs of her seed into you. She finally pulls out, and you sway under the desk for a moment, dazed from being forced to hold your breath for so long. After wiping your lips and chin, you carefully back out from under the desk.
You stand, and instead of sitting at the desk across from you, Ma'am has already moved to stand next to you. She pushes you back to your knees and you let her lead you back down. She points to a slim box on her desk. “You may open that now. It is a symbol of your new position in my household.” Inside the box is a silver collar, the same as some of the other staff wear. She removes it from the box, and your heart beats rapidly as she places it around your neck and secures it with a small tool from the bottom of the box. She helps you stand, your cheeks burning, and your head swims for a moment. “And do touch up your make up before returning from your lunch.” “Yes Ma'am, I shall before returning to work.” You bow slightly and slip out the door. As much as you try to hold the skirt down, it can't hide how hard your own member is right now, the short skirt not even trying to hide it from the staff as you walk back to your room.