Maid For Radio

Commission: "Maid for Radio"

By Morgan Grey

Chapter 1

The married life, oh what a joy it is. Fourteen years of marital bliss with my husband, Ralph. He is a good man and provider. It doesn't hurt that he was ripped when we wed. It sure came in handy when he was the first-string quarterback in our high school days. I remember Ralphie smashing his way through linebackers during every football game while the girls and I cheered in our verdant, green cheerleader outfits. We caught quite a few eyes from the boys as we danced with our glittering pom-poms. But the pair of eyes I noticed staring at me the most were Ralph's.

It was no surprise that after a particularly hard game against our rivals Robin Verne High, he made a straight beeline towards me when we all arrived back at school.

"You're Bridget, right?" Ralph asked me.

"Yup. That's me, Mr. Ralph Kennedy. But you knew that already, didn't you? You just want to get into my panties." I said mock seriously.

"Welp, you got me," Ralph said as he lifted his hands up in the air. "It is that obvious, uh?"

"Well, ya. You have stared at me like a man with burning loins all semester long."

"That is just the thing, Bridget. You're right on the money about the burning loins. And I know your heart is pounding in your chest ever so quickly. Hell, I hear it from here."

He was completely right. I was smitten with him since the first time I saw him. All the girls were. I still don't know what he saw in me. Sure, I am beautiful with my long and fiery red hair and bright brown eyes. But there were two girls on the cheer squad who ended up becoming professional models after graduating and Jeanette Proctor had the biggest bust in the senior class.

With all that competitiveness going on, it is a special kind of crazy luck that I won the affection of the big man on campus without even really trying. Love is odd like that, I suppose. But sometimes, it can get quite strange.

My mind returns back to that special night after the game against Verne High when I first got to know my husband.

"Want me to take you home?" Ralph asked smiling.

"Sure!" I said without hesitation.

I got into Ralph's pickup truck after almost slipping on the muddy step of the shotgun door.

"You ok?!" Ralph asked with a mix of alarm and laughter in his voice.

"Ya, ya. I am all good. I know you wanted me to faceplant on the dirt." I shot back jokingly.

"Maybe......" Ralphie said looking so cute by moving his eyes side to side. "You see it happening to me all the time. Nothing wrong with falling facefirst sometimes."

He was such a sweetheart though and passed me a blue towel from his truck. I quickly used it to wipe off the mud off my sneakers.

"Maybe, I should plant my face on you, Mister Kennedy." I said in my most devious tone.

Ralph began smiling like a kid at the county fair when I said that. I would have been worried if he wasn't so giddy.

It didn't take long for me to unzip his pants and in no time at all, he was fully erect. I leaned over and began sucking him off right there in the school parking lot.

Ralph's cock warmed and filled up my mouth with its girth. Hints of sweat and salt gave flavor to the experience. I used my nails to tease the sides of his member to release its sweet milk quicker.

It wasn't my first blowjob, but it was the first one I enjoyed giving. I had begun sliding my right hand up and down his cock, when

squirt

, he came into my mouth.

The taste was bitter, so I opened the window to spit it out. Just as I did, three of the girls from the cheer squad were passing by. To my dread, they noticed me in Ralph's truck.

"Look who is with the QB!" One said.

"Oh my God, is that jizz on her lips? Bridget sucked off Ralph. Bridget likes cock." Another added in a singsong voice.

"What a slut." The third whined.

I felt awful. I wanted to die. I was so ashamed. What would my mother think if she saw me in this situation? Everything seemed bleak and the world narrowed to a pinpoint.

"Shut the hell up! Bridget is my girlfriend and I don't give a damn what y'all have to say about it." Ralph shouted in my defense.

The little bitches scurried away. But the rumor mill took off and everyone at school was talking about it the next day. Not long after, Ralph and I became the hot item of gossip at school. And that is how I started dating Ralph.

One thing led to another, and we married several months after graduating high school. Ralph never received a football scholarship to attend college, so we just stayed in town. He works at his dad's hardware store, which keeps him somewhat active. Though in the last five years, he has started to loss his look of being a muscular Adonis in favor of that of a pudgy man.

As for me, I began working as a maid cleaning people's home. That is how I met Arnold Williams.

Chapter 2

The Williams were one of the wealthiest families in our small town. They owned the local radio station, KYUZ. I never listened to the station much, but plenty of people in town and beyond had become rabid converts to its electronica broadcasts. To each their own, I guess. I never quite understood this generation's taste in music anyhow.

I had to drive up the steep hill onto which Williams Manor was. It was a regal two-story home with a stone wall surrounding the small estate. The only way in and out was a black motorized gate accompanied by an electric keypad.

I put in the code that Mrs. Williams gave me when she hired me via text message. Apparently, her friends have all raved about how thorough I am when cleaning their homes.

A pair of large white doors stood at the entrance of the manor. Yet, they refused to open as I kept knocking and then eventually banging on the door.

"Hello?! Is anybody here? I am here to clean your house." I said loudly.

A young man opened the door and extended his hand.

"Hello there!" The young man said.

"Hey, are you Mrs. Williams' son?" I asked him as I shook his hand.

"Yup, my name is Arnold. It is a pleasure to meet you," Arnold said with a gentle smile. "Please, come inside. My mother told me that you were coming."

I was sure glad Arnold was so polite. Most of the young adults I deal with are rude, obnoxious brats. Which is the reason why I don't clean dorm rooms and only family homes.

As I took another look at him, I noticed Arnold was scrawny for the eighteen or so years he has lived.

The inside of the house was well-furnished, yet paradoxically spartan. The floor was made of a bright gray stucco while the walls were a dull blue. The illusion of a tranquil sea was interruptions of family photo frames.

Handcrafted Turkish rugs, likewise, broke the monotony of the gray stucco. There was a rotten smell coming from the kitchen.

All the while, I couldn't quite pinpoint where the speakers playing the sounds of a tropical beach mixed with waves crashing against the shifting sands. It was admittedly extremely soothing and relaxing, it almost made me want to just lay down and enjoy a sunny day. But alas, it was time to work.

First, I started in the kitchen to get rid of the smell. It turns out the origin point of the smell was a bag of trash that was left out too long. I grabbed it with my thick yellow rubber gloves and threw it out in the dumpster. As I was lifting it up to dump, a hole in the middle of the bag spewed trash all over my long-sleeved shirt and jeans.

"AHHHHHHH!!!!" I screamed.

Arnold showed up, out of nowhere, to help.

"Oh my gosh, Bridget. Are you okay?" Arnold asked worried.

"Ya, I am fine. Just got surprised and covered in trash. Dammit. I am going to have to go home, take a shower and change. This is going to put a giant hamper on my day. Might have to cancel my next house cleaning." I conceded.

"No need for that!" Arnold exclaimed. "Use our guest shower. It is well-stocked, and I can find dig up a change of clothes for you to wear. That way you don't have to lose your day."

"Thank you! Are you sure your parents won't mind me showering?"

"Na, they are really understanding people. They don't mind at all." Arnold countered with a smile.

Words could barely describe the relief I felt as I took off my filthy garments in the guest bathroom and put them into a spare trash bag. All the while, the soft swooshing sounds of the ocean lulled my worries away. I absentmindedly stepped into the shower and turned on the water.

The water fell in cool streams across my naked body. I enjoyed the sensation of cooling down from the hot, mucky day I had. Relaxing, and perfectly content while listening to the sounds of the waves. There was something special about those waves, I just could not put my finger on how or why.

The soap felt smooth as I lathered it. It outlined the curves of my lower body, and breasts. Soon, I was rubbing it across my stomach and down my legs. As if on autopilot, I rubbed the bar of soap against my pussy. It stung slightly but felt pleasant. In a matter of seconds, I dropped the soap.

There was no need for it anymore. I just started fingering my pussy while the soap was washed off unevenly by the water. Blotches of white soap on my body were cut by streams of water, while I paid no attention to it. My mind was on the sweet touch my index and middle fingers had.

For a few good moments, I stood there in ecstasy. Not a care in the world. I did not care that I was masturbating in a client's guest bathroom. The pleasure was building and filling my brain in a dull haze. I was so close to orgasm but then, I was suddenly roused from my state.

"What would Ralphie think of me?" I gasped as I woke to find water all over the shower.

"Great, I am going to have to dry all of this now." I said aloud.

At that moment, I realized that not only was the shower soaked but so was my pussy. My fingers were thick and sticky. The rest of my skin was wiped clean of the soap, but slightly pruned from staying under the shower so long.

"What the hell?! Why did I play with my clit, when I should be working?! I have no time to lose." I pondered introspectively.

That is when I noticed the maid outfit hung on the hanger of the bathroom door. A flood of thoughts raced into my mind, washing away any lingering feelings of pleasure.

Arnold or, worse still, his parents must have opened the door while I was playing with myself. They obviously have seen the dirty act in the shower, but how could they have entered if I had locked the door? All those thoughts were pushed to the back of my head as I hurriedly got dressed. I was on the clock after all.

Chapter 3

I must admit, I look good in a maid outfit. The outfit extenuated my figure, which I appreciated because, though, I still work out regularly. I am nowhere as lithe as I once was as a cheerleader.

Normally, I would never think of getting into one even for Ralphie when I am feeling particularly frisky. Ralphie is kinky and it shows in our lovemaking sessions, when he leaves me with lovebites and scratches from his whip. But I am rather vanilla on my own. Ralph wants me to try all these new things and I just don't want to try them out. Suspended rope bondage: no thanks!

But alas. Now out of embarrassment, expediency and necessity, I was wearing a maid outfit to clean Arnold's house. As was my job, to be Arnold's maid. In this, I attacked the task with gusto. I dried the bathroom, finished cleaning the kitchen, and swept the floors. As I was washing the living room windows, Arnold came into the room panting like a man in the desert.

"I am sorry that was the only outfit I could find that didn't belong to my mom. She is very possessive of her clothes, so it was a miracle that I found this old maid outfit. It belonged to our old maid, Shelia, but she went off to college. We didn't like her much; she wasn't a good maid." Arnold said.

Though I will never meet this Shelia, I already knew I did not like her. Working as a maid is a full-time profession which requires one to be at their best to offer the best service to their client. A bad maid indeed.

"Shelia seems to be an awful maid. It is good, you guys, kicked her to the curb and hired me instead." I said in agreement.

"Ya,

you're a good maid

." Arnold replied.

Suddenly, I felt myself losing focus. My mind blanked out for a few seconds before refocusing. None of the words that were coming out Arnold's mouth were making sense to me. It was as if he was speaking a completely different language.

"Sorry, I must have dozed off there for a second. Can you repeat that?" I said.

"Oh, of course Bridget. What I said was that

you're a good maid

. You have been working so hard without much of a break. Just sit awhile and relax."

I was on autopilot. Not more than a moment passed by before I plopped onto the soft, cream colored cushion of the living room sofa. It felt as if I were sinking into the coach without any hope for escape. The curse of furniture being too comfortable.

"Feeling better?" Arnold inquired.

"Much better." I said laidback.

"Good, good. Relaxation is needed for a good maid, and

you're a good maid

, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am a good maid. Which is why I need to relax, in order to keep being a good maid."

I agreed with Arnold's words without hesitation. He was just so easy to listen to while, relaxing.

"Good, now that you are relaxed. Let's have a small chat. I know that you're exhausted. So, it is fine if you just listen along to my voice if you want." Arnold said in a smooth tune.

"Sure." I said dreamily.

I wouldn't be surprised if his parents were grooming him to take over their radio station, while also being one of the main attractions. Arnold has a voice I can listen to for a long while and I did listen to him intently as well as intensely. So carefully, I was listening to him. Little else seemed to matter. Though I did hear a click, and the sound of waves dissipated to those of a strong, yet constant gale.

"Bridget, can you hear the sound of the wind? I hope you can because nothing is more disarming than the steady blow of wind. I often just drift off while hearing the easy sounds of the gale. No fear of a cyclone destroying all the work you did. No fear of anything." Arnold cooed.

At this point, relaxation was so complete that I was unable to move. The gust was blowing away all my worries and fears. Truth is, it blew away anything in my head.

"I don't fear anything. No fear. Just disarmingly at ease." I said smiling in Arnold's direction.

"I am glad to hear you say that, because it means that

you're just such a good maid

. When a good maid does her duty, she feels good doesn't she?"

"Yes, I feel good." I dimly recall saying.

At this point, I was nothing more than a yes-woman for Arnold. Agreeing to everything he said because it is what a good maid would do. Plus, Arnold was right when he said it feels good to be a good maid.

"Now you're feeling very well, Bridget. I think it is time that you tell me exactly what you are."

"I am a good maid." A voice sounding like my own, but without it's will uttered

"Again."

"I am a good maid."

"Good maids follow commands from those who oversee them. Do you know what good maids call those over them? Of course, you know because

you're a good maid

."

There was no effort done on my part. The answer appeared out of nowhere from the deep chasm of my subconscious. It was obvious and clear.

"Master. Good maids call those with power over them, Master." I announced my discovery.

"Which makes me, your Master. As your Master, you will follow my commands like the well-heeled servant you are. Now my first command is for you to kiss me passionately."

"Yes, Master. I am a good maid." I blankly responded.

It took more than a moment to lift myself from my sunken place to kiss Master Arnold. When I leaned in for the kiss, my brown eyes met his grey pair for an instant. There was the look of satisfaction about them just before our lips met. There was a sweet, tarty taste in my mouth. I liked it. My passion exploded at that moment of realization.

I did not need Master Arnold's command at this point. Years of being emotionally and physically starved by Ralph working all those long hours, leaving our bed cold and empty were rectified at this single moment.

All the romantic potential squandered was paid in full as Arnold put his hands on my breasts. I did not resist, nor could I. But instead, I relished the it.

"Aunghh" I moaned.

Master Arnold stuck his tongue into my mouth. Our tongues swirled while our lips were dry from kissing for so long. We ended up in each other's embrace with my left hand behind Arnold's head, forcing him to keep kissing me with all his eagerness.

I don't recall how long we were making out, but I do remember his left hand grabbing my ass tightly. So tight that I couldn't quite escape Master's grasp nor did I wish to.

Suddenly, Master Arnold released me from his hold and parted his lips from mine. I did not resist at all, allowing him to escape from my previously passionate embrace.

In no time at all, I was left completely at rest like a real-life standing doll. No thoughts were emanating from my consciousness. I sensed only a chasm in my very being all the while awaiting Arnold's next order. I did not have to wait long.

"Bridget, strip down out of your garments for me. I want to see your ravishing body once more." Arnold commanded.

"Yes, I will strip for you. So you can see my body....once...again." I said stirring.

Conflict arose in my mind as my consciousness began reasserting itself.

"Nnnnnooooo, no, NO!!! I will not give into you, Arnold. What the fuck do you mean show you my body again?!" I roared.

Arnold began chuckling and clapping his hands.

"Well, well. Looks like you're not as easy of a mark as I first thought. It is really your fault, you know. You fell so easily under my spell. Subliminals are really a marvel of modern technology, you know. With just a few hidden messages buried deep in frequencies, you can scramble a person's mind. Otherwise, you wouldn't have fingered yourself for my pleasure in the shower." Arnold gloated.

"You little!" I screeched.

"

You're a good maid.

" Arnold said

My mind began getting fuzzy again as I was forced to stop in mid-sentence. Fear began coursing through my veins, and I was paralyzed by it as much as by Arnold's trigger phrase. It all made perfect sense now why I was acting so strange. Which horrified me even more because I was powerless to stop it.

"

You're a good maid

." He said again.

I slipped deeper under Arnold's spell. I screamed inside and begged with whatever powers there are in the universe to be saved from Arnold's insidious plans for me. No salvation came, only sweet damnation.

"

You're a good maid

. Good maids obey their master. I am your Master, and you're my slavishly devoted maid. Devoted to only me. Not to anyone else, especially not your pathetic husband."

"I am a good maid. I obey you, Master Arnold. My devotion is to you and only you. My husband is a pathetic man. I am a good maid. I obey you, Master Arnold. My devotion is to you and only you. My husband is a pathetic man." I parroted blankly.

I had no will to resist Arnold, no will to refute his dictates, and no will to defend my husband. My will had been broken completely. No resistance could be mustered as the subliminals continually washed over my brain.

Just like all the masses that listen to his parent's radio station. We were all blank slates to be reprogrammed at their whim. Truth be told, I did not mind being controlled one bit. It began feeling pleasant to be a good maid. Without a doubt in my mind, I know Arnold put these sensations into my head through his suggestions and manipulation. All I can do is enjoy and obey like a good maid.