This time, it took four weeks before I heard from my master, the young doctor, again. In his SMS, he had asked me to come over the following Saturday and promised to send me an outfit by OOPS delivery. It was two hours until the meeting and I was still waiting for my outfit. In the meantime, I had already put on my makeup. He had requested "slutty makeup, but make sure it doesn't make you look older than you are." I had actually had to buy new products, because I usually only wore light makeup to work. I also had gone through the pain of watching some tutorials on how to do a "party" or "sexy" makeup. As a result, I had red lips, eyeliner used in tactical places, tastefully used eye shadow in different shades of plum and violet and extra long lashes. Luckily, the master hadn't required me to wear fake lashes or nails, but I had painted my nails the same red as my lips.
The doorbell finally rang and I received a small package - or rather, a tiny package. It turned out that my master had been merciful enough to offer me a black silk choker to wear. It was simple enough with a small silver pendant that had some small text in cursive on it. Upon closer inspection, I saw the text, "To be fucked." I sighed. Once again, driving to his house wouldn't be simple. I braced myself and got ready to go.
Even though I had driven to the master's house practically naked under my coat before, it felt even more erotic when I was wearing nothing underneath. For obvious reasons, I drove carefully and arrived just in time. When I reached his door, I saw a post-it note that said, "Remove your shoes and coat & leave them here. The door is open." I found the next note in the living room. After reading it, I considered turning back for a second and terminating the contract by doing so. Taken I had no idea what was going to happen, I would put myself in an even more vulnerable position than before. But, I didn't want to lose him. Obediently, I put my head sideways on a pillow lying on the living room carpet, lifted my ass, spread my legs and closed my eyes. Then I waited.
It felt like I had been waiting for fifteen minutes and my neck had started to ache. In reality, it probably had been less than five minutes. Suddenly, I heard light footsteps approach me. Then I felt fingers lightly inspecting my sex. Something soft but firm, a bit rubber-like, was pushed inside me. I sighed lightly. I was moist, but the thing still felt a bit strange. I guessed it was a sex toy. One part of it was inside and one was touching my clit.
"Thank you, master," I murmured.
"Open your eyes and stand up," I heard his voice.
As I did as I was told, I saw the master standing in front of me wearing his dark gray bathrobe. I looked into his eyes. I adored him. Yet, he was impossible to read. There was no passion or even much interest in his eyes. He looked at me like I was some routine sample he checked every day at work. As a passing thought, I wondered why he even bothered to invite me over.
My train of thought stopped when the master handed me an apron and a maid's headscarf and said, "Tonight you shall be my servant. Get dressed."
"Yes, master, thank you, master," I replied while fumbling with the small, frilly headscarf.
As I put on the mint-colored, slightly frilly apron, I noticed it barely covered my chest and reached to my mid-thigh in the front. It left a lot of side-boob in the view and left the backside exposed.
"Maid, the toy I gave you is for testing your control and obedience. You shall keep it inside at all times, understood?" the master asked.
"Yes, master," I replied.
"And obviously, you shall notify me and ask permission if you're about to orgasm," the master nonchalantly added.
"Y-yes, master," I replied.
"Now, fetch me some red wine from the kitchen," he said, waving his hand dismissively as he sat on the sofa.
Wearing the apron felt more erotic than being naked. The material rubbed against my nipples and I could feel a draft on my bare backside. I glimpsed myself in the full-length mirror in the hallway. The skimpy outfit only drew attention to my naked body. The makeup made me look sexy and cheap at the same time. When I lifted the hem of the apron, I could see that the toy was a pink piece of plastic, looking rude in its current position. As a final touch, the choker verified what I was: a slut to be fucked.
As I walked into the kitchen, the toy whirred to life. I took a sharp breath. I didn't have any toys at home because my main toy was my imagination and I had always gotten excited enough with that. However, I couldn't have imagined the intense feeling the toy caused. It was in, what I assumed to be, a low setting, but I still could feel the vibrations both on my clit and inside. I decided to focus on the task at hand and poured some wine into a glass.
After receiving his drink, the master asked me to tidy up the living room. In reality, there wasn't much to do, but he ordered me to do menial tasks anyway: to dust the basically dust-free furniture, to get a newspaper that was dropped behind the TV and to take a flower vase from a top shelf to put it on the table. It was clear the purpose of the tasks was only to humiliate me and put me in degrading positions. Besides, the master knew. He knew a sexual deviant like me would get aroused.
"Maid, get me a second glass of wine and be quick about it," the master ordered.
I was relieved. Not so much for being able to stop the meaningless tasks, but because now I could be away from his eyes for a minute or two. Besides the psychological arousal, the mechanical stimulation of the vibrator had started to make me frustrated. Even during the tasks, the toy had stayed in place easily and moving around had only increased the tease. It wasn't enough to make me cum, but as time went on, I wasn't so sure anymore. As I poured the glass of wine in the kitchen, I tried to keep my legs as open as I could to decrease the contact. I glanced at a clock on the wall. It had been almost half an hour since I had taken on the role of a maid.
Just after I had given the master the glass of wine and was standing next to him, I felt a slight throb and came. It was a small orgasm, but I couldn't help jerking my hips slightly and inhaling audibly. Carefully, I lifted my gaze to meet his.
"You came without permission," the master said matter-of-factly.
"I'm sorry, sir," I replied.
"Your sorry isn't worth a dime," the master said, looking at me with fire in his eyes.
"What can I do, master?" I asked.
"As yet, nothing -- except to clean this," the master said.
