The Maid For Service Bundle

by Nadia Nightside

  I wanted them, both, so bad. I forced myself to look away.

  “Knock, knock,” Claudette said, echoing Lilah.

  “Please, leave me be,” I said, trying to pack my suitcase. “I made my choice, okay? I’m going.”

  “We know,” they said. “But we don’t want you to go.”

  “Too bad.”

  Claudette stepped inside and pressed against me, then.

  “Please don’t go, Abbey.”

  Lilah pressed hard against my body, too. “Yes, dear. Please? We like you so much.”

  Lilah took the shoes out from my hand and placed them down on the bed. Claudette started emptying out the suitcase—I tried to grab the clothes she grabbed, but Lilah kept kissing my shoulder and arm, distracting me.

  “N-no you don’t,” I said. “You’re just saying that. You’re just saying it because you want to keep me around to make fun of me. You’re just saying it because Mister Castle made you.”

  “Oh, dear. He’s already given up. You said you wanted to go. He believed you. We’re here on our own accord. We’re desperate to see you stay with us. We like you, Abbey.”

  “Yes,” said Claudette. “Truly. It’s so wonderful having a good friend like you here.”

  “You don’t...you don’t mean that. You just want...”

  “What?” said Lilah. “What is it you think we want?”

  “You just want to mock me. You want someone to feel you're better than.”

  Lilah and Claudette exchanged a long, sad look. “Oh, no!” they said in unison.

  “We would never—”

  “—You’re far too lovely to think—”

  “—really? Us? We love you, Abbey, and we couldn’t possibly—”

  “It’s just impossible to think—”

  “—Please take it back? You don’t truly think we dislike you that much, do you?”

  I could see that I really had hurt them. That all my walls built up to keep people out had kept out these two gorgeous, wonderful women who only ever had given me their full love and support.

  It was hard not to cry.

  I held my head down. My golden hair puddled in my overwhelming cleavage. Looking down, I could see their big, hot, lactating tits pressing against my own.

  “I’m so sorry,” I sniffed. “I just...I’ve never really had friends before.”

  “You have some now,” said Lilah, putting her hand high on my ass. Her fingers floated toward the crack between my cheeks.

  “Yes,” said Claudette. “Very good friends indeed.”

  “You promise? Truly? You’re not just...this isn’t some big mocking plan?”

  They both shook their heads, smiling slyly. Claudette came forward and kissed me on the cheek.

  “I promise,” she whispered.

  Lilah pushed forward as well, except she kissed me right below my ear. “I promise.”

  They were both so close now. Their breasts crushing on my body.

  “Girls, you are...I mean you are both...”

  Claudette had started to kiss my neck. Soft moans escaped my throat. Lilah mirrored her on the other side, kissing in rhythm with the thunderously beautiful blonde. They were impossible to resist.

  I wanted to believe them so bad. I wanted to believe them more than anything in the world.

  Claudette’s fingers came up to my clit, rubbing down.

  Lilah’s fingers, in turn, entered my sopping wet pussy. I moaned.

  “Oh, fuck!”

  “You won’t leave, will you, baby girl?” asked Lilah.

  “We need our best friend here with us.”

  “Yes,” cooed Lilah. “Our very best friend. You complete the trifecta. You wouldn’t leave us alone, would you?”

  “Oh god,” I moaned. “Oh fuck, oh god, oh fuck! Please! Pleaaaase!”

  “You’re not answering the question,” Claudette purred. “Say you’ll stay.”

  How could I possibly refuse? I didn't want to anymore. I don't know that I ever did. I was happy to be there.

  “I’ll stay! I’ll stay!”

  With ferocious intensity, Lilah kissed me then. She pushed me back down on the bed. Claudette found her place between my legs, licking me like she always licked me. God, her tongue! It was so, so good!

  “Please, Lilah?” I asked. “Please, can I lick you?”

  She nodded, of course. After she repositioned herself quickly, I was soon able to stick my tongue against her hot, soft little clit. It smelled just as good, if not better, than I had imagined. It tasted delicious. It tasted almost like the way her milk tasted.

  We would have all cum like that...except then Mister Castle and Terrence arrived. Both of them naked. Those two enormous studs, looking at the three of us with clear lust. Their cocks were long and horizontal in front of them, fully erect.

  Us girls moaned as one, sitting up.

  “Please,” we all said collectively. “Please, fuck us?”

  Castle approached me first, wrapping my head around his cock right away. He seemed to miss my lips on his meat.

  “You'll stay, huh?”

  I moaned an affirmative as I sucked more and more. Lilah, smiling happily, slid up next to me and licked the length of his shaft as I worked around his balls.

  “The milk,” said Castle. “Let me feel your milk.”

  We nodded eagerly, and soon we had his gigantic, thick cock positioned between our incredible, lactating breasts. Four milk-spurting tits pushed on his huge rod, wetting it down with perfect hot lubricant. Precum spurted out and mixed with the mess. I scooped some of the combination up, licking it down.

  At Castle's behest, Claudette joined us, pushing her gushing, milk-spouting tits onto Mister Castle’s cock as well. Each of us took turns sliding our mouths around his enormous rod, licking up our milk and the milk of the other girls. As Claudette pushed her tits up down his shaft, Terrence approached her from behind and started drilling into her dripping wet pussy. I was jealous as I watched this—I still hadn’t been fucked.

  “You like that?” Lilah asked. “You like what Terrence is doing to Claudette’s pregnant body?”

  I moaned out an affirmative. Lilah kissed me across from Master’s cock—our mouths melded up and down his precious, hot cockhead for several seconds as we traded tongues. Finally, though, she pulled away.

  “Won’t you fuck her, Sir?” Lilah begged. “She needs your cock so badly. And just look at her...she’ll be such a fertile fuckpet for you. Her body has changed for you, Sir. Won’t you fuck her?”

  “Please, Sir?” I begged, finally popping my mouth off his cock. I kept stroking him though. “Please won’t you fuck me? I need your cock. I truly do. I need it inside me. I need that bareback cock filling me up!”

  Finally, thankfully, he slipped his enormous cock inside of my virgin pussy. There was just a half-second of hesitation from my body as he pushed through my natural resistance, and then thankfully it was gone—and I was drowning in pleasure. He was so fucking huge! His cock filled my love canal up so deep. I didn't know anyone could feel so fucking full.

  As he pounded into me, Lilah cheered him on.

  “Fuck her, husband! Oh, husband! Fuck your little milkmaid cunt!”

  Her lactating tits leaked out milk onto his body and mine as she shouted and cheered.

  Claudette, fucked viciously from behind by Terrence, was shaking as she latched her mouth on to my milk-dripping tit. Her own bouncing tits let milk fly all over my body. Lilah, when she wasn’t urging her Man on, happily licked up whatever she could.

  He fucked me so hard. There was milk everywhere. We were all covered in it completely.

  “Fuck. You're so fucking tight,” moaned Castle.

  “Yes!” I shouted. “Just for you! My pussy belongs to you!”

  “That's right. I'm gonna cum in your fertile pussy. I'm gonna get you pregnant. You're gonna take it, cunt. You're gonna...you're gonna...”

  I could feel his thick, huge balls tensing up for an enormous load. My own
orgasm was in the wings, just waiting for the say-so from his body to let loose.

  He did.

  His glorious cock filled me up, spurting load after load into my sweet, willing, hot pussy. As he came, it was a chain reaction. Terrence came into Claudette's hot pussy. She moaned with orgasm as she swallowed more and more of my milk. Lilah, fingering herself next to us, came as well. And of course I orgasmed so hard, more full than ever.

  I just can’t wait to be pregnant for him.

  NOW:

  At the end of the day, I attend myself to the room of the Master and Mistress of the Estate. Normally, Claudette joins us; however, as of late, Terrence has become more and more possessive of her. That is his right, after all; and it’s not as though Lilah and Mister Castle are at a deficit of attention. I take care of them very well.

  Often, the night begins with Lilah’s dressing of me. She adores to put me in her newest lingerie and heels. She says I am her perfect little dress-up doll. My proportions are so perfect.

  But last night, we celebrated. I was fucked all night long to commemorate the occasion.

  Last night, I found out I was just as pregnant as Claudette and Lilah.

  Oh yes, they are further along than me. But I shall be joining them soon, giving Mister Castle even more heirs. It is such an honor to be a maid for this glorious estate.

  And, I suppose, we’ll be needing a new maid soon to take care of the rest of us while we’re busy being good mothers for Mister Castle’s heirs...

  # # #

  Maid Laid Bare 3: Maid To Obey

  I woke in the morning with the maid, Mariana, on her knees at the side of my bed. She had already brought in breakfast—a fruit salad arranged on her incredibly buoyant tits. Grapes, orange slices, kiwi. She was feeling mischievous, then.

  Most days, she arrived with breakfast on a tray. But when she was especially horny—horniness for Mariana existed on a spectrum with the high-end being “already orgasming” and the low-end being “needing cock terribly”—she would arrive in this manner, presenting herself.

  I took some time as I sat up, yawning elaborately. Drawing it out for her. I could see the lust building on her gorgeous young face. She was just past twenty years old, and had never been with another man besides me in her entire life. Her hands tugged at the tiny hem of her maid’s outfit, wanting to slide into her soft, wet pussy at the sight of me. Her anticipation was palpable.

  On the bed, I stretched from one side and then the other, smiling at her growing arousal. Her breathing turned in a series of mews.

  “Oh, do stop teasing the poor girl,” said Jacqueline, my wife. Her lovely, brunette form turned over slowly, slipping up on one white-gloved elbow. She still wore the same lingerie I fucked her in the night before. My cum stains could be seen around the edges of her corset where I had sprayed all over her delectable breasts.

  “She works so hard for you, and you’re just dangling it there in front of her...”

  Jacqueline was trying to make sense, but her voice had started to slur. The combination of the early morning hour and the instant arousal from seeing our maid on her knees, needing my cock, had her feeling a bit lust-drunk. I could see the glazed, happy look in her eyes that came from imagining Mariana sucking me off. A bit of drool had formed at the edge of her plush, sexy lips. The same little trail of drool was much more evolved on Mariana’s face, sliding down her chin and elegantly trailing down her perfect chin and neck and into her expansive cleavage, underneath the arrangement of fruit.

  “Come then,” I said, calling our maid forward. “Start the day like a good girl.”

  Moaning with need, Mariana slipped forward, sliding her wet, red lips over my massively thick shaft. My wife slipped up around my broad, muscular shoulders, cooing in my ear.

  “When she’s done, might I get a turn?” she asked. “You’ve left me so very hungry, Husband...you didn't even bother to fuck my mouth after filling me up last night...”

  Jacqueline's baby bump pressed hard into my back. As Mariana bobbed her head obediently up and down my shaft, I could feel her own baby bump—at the same stage of development as Jacqueline's—sliding over my shins. Mariana’s mouth was wet and perfectly warm around the thick rod of my cock. I rolled my head back, wondering how long I'd go before erupting in my maid's mouth for the thousandth time.

  This was paradise.

  But it wasn’t always this way. No. Once, it was very dark indeed.

  * * * * *

  This all began some months ago, when I sat down for a quick lunch with Stanford Castle at a steak restaurant he owned one Friday afternoon. Castle owned a great many things, places, and people; it seemed to be a hobby of his. If it was, it was a hobby that had started well after I had met him.

  He and I were old school buddies. He was a billionaire, as far as I knew, though the exact extent of his fortune wasn’t known to me. The last time I had seen him before this was seven or eight years before, when he was still penniless and trying to strike it rich. I had offered to let him come and work for me on several occasions, but he insisted that he would be in charge of his own destiny. There was no reasoning with such fervor, as I am sure you well know.

  Straight out of the blue, he invited me to lunch at his steakhouse one afternoon. I, of course, agreed, desperate for any excuse whatsoever to get away from the pile of ever-accumulating dread that my house had become.

  The restaurant was small and exclusive. It apparently had a focus on catering to high-profile businessmen who enjoyed being in the company of beautiful young women as they ate: everyone from the hostess to the waitress to the bussers I saw hopping around were delectably gorgeous beauties of all shapes, sizes, and colors. The only men were either the customers or the bouncers posted at all the entrances and exits.

  Stanford himself had changed quite a bit. When I last saw him, he alternated in large ways between being overweight and far too skinny, perpetuating his existence on mood swings that could last for weeks or even months. He would binge on manic ideas that he was convinced would be his fortune, and in these binges, he would either purge his body of all food and sustenance or eat everything he could. When the ideas failed to materialize, he would again purge or binge.

  Now, he was calm, collected, and handsome. And large. He had apparently joined some kind of bodybuilding club, as the expensive suit he wore tugged tightly to his impressive, muscular frame. I myself was a smaller man at the time, no more than six foot tall. I had short brown hair, and I considered myself reasonably handsome—I had, after all, married a woman with the sort of beauty of my wife, Jacqueline.

  Stanford and I exchanged a brief number of pleasantries—some few minutes of “oh, it’s been so long.” A few laugh-inducing sections of, “Say, don’t you remember the time.” All of that. We caught up with one another, and I learned what had been happening in his life.

  Since the time I had seen him, he had gained a fortune, married a drop-dead gorgeous woman, and acquired more property and companies than I think I could have ever imagined. What’s more, he had a couple of kids on the way—several, to hear him tell it. Five beautiful daughters, he bragged, from two women, and another few babies that he hadn't learned the sex of yet from a third girl.

  His wife, he intimated with a smile, did not mind in the least that he spread his seed around.

  Probably, it is also rather telling of Stanford’s personality and new-found confidence that he did not mind in the least telling me all of this information with an easy, contented smile on his face—and in the presence of our buxom redheaded waitress, besides! She seemed rather excited by the revelation that his wife didn't mind if he slept around.

  I didn’t hold him in judgment for all of this, however. Perhaps once upon a time, I would have, but as of late, I didn’t have the energy for something as taxing as condemnation. All I could muster was a vague sense of surprise that so many women would be willing to get pregnant for Stanford. It was a lot of responsibility for him and for them, after all.
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br />   My wife certainly never agreed to children. I tried not to hold it against her, most of the time, and failed.

  Finally, though, after finishing our thoroughly delicious steaks and having a few drinks, the conversation swung back around to me.

  “How’s your wife?” he asked. “I was given to understand that she was sick.”

  That was, I had assumed already, the reason he had asked to see me. He was, despite his peculiarities, a good friend and a caring man.

  “Oh, god.” I put my head in my hands for a moment. “Ask another question, won’t you?”

  “I’m sorry. It’s that bad?”

  “Terrible. She gets worse every day. I can’t tell, day by day, you know. That would be really bad. But week by week? Oh yes. So I know that it is every day.”

  “Yes.” His concern was genuine.

  “It’s just...she’s positively decaying. It’s hard to stay positive.”

  “Can I help at all?”

  “No, no. It’s fine.”

  “Do you have enough money for medication? For all the medical bills? Doctor's visits, all of it?”

  “Oh yes. That’s taken care of. I made sure of that. The business is doing well enough, and my insurance is the very best.”

  “I would be happy to help. I have plenty to give.”

  “I know, Stanford. But really, it’s all well-in-hand.”

  “A good wife is one of the sublime pleasures of the world.” Stanford shook his head. “I hate to see you robbed of one like this. And so slowly.”

  It struck me a bit how he referred to the nature of having a wife—as a possession. Something to be owned and, alternatively, robbed of. But I knew he was trying his best to be sympathetic.

  “It’s all right. This new medication the doctors have her on, they say it will take time. That it will weaken her at first, but over time...”

  “How long has she been on it?”

  “Sixty-seven days.”

  I knew the number exactly, of course. I knew the number of days of the medication before that as well, and the one before that, and the one before that...

  So much of any sort of medicine was a waiting game. “Try this, and see if it works,” the doctors would say. They all say it. It was an awful game, yes, but it was the only one in town.