The Maid

The Maid

By Harbinger96

Disclaimer: This story is complete fiction and fantasy, did not happen, and is for entertainment only!

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I was taking a nap, minding my own fucking business, when I heard an unexpected knock at my door.

Cursing and grumbling, I got up and pulled it open, but froze in my slippers. Standing before me in a long dark coat was a gorgeous woman with silky brunette hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, her face cast down at her feet.

"H-hello, sir," she said meekly, still not looking up at me. Despite being timid, her voice still sounded naturally sweet and smooth.

"Um... can I help you?" I asked, not sure what the hell was going on.

"I'm... your maid," she squeaked out, like she was terrified. "I'm here to serve you, sir."

I had no idea what was going on, but I didn't want her standing out in the cold wind. The blowing in cloud cover made me expect rain soon. I grabbed the mystery woman by the shoulder and guided her in.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" I asked her. Before she could respond, my phone started ringing. "Uncle Jack?" I asked as I picked it up.

"Hey, Kevin! Did she show up?"

"What?" I asked slowly, looking at the poor thing that wasn't looking back at me, her head still down.

"The maid! Is she there? I got a text saying she is."

"You hired me a maid?" I asked, wondering what was wrong with her, that she still wasn't looking up, just standing in front of me with her hands clasped.

"Yeah. You haven't been the same since your dad died, and the last time I was over your place looked like it was falling apart. I thought she could help you out. My business has been doing amazing and my stocks are absolutely thriving, so I hired her for a year outright."

"Well thanks, but I wish you would have talked to me first," I said, trying to hide my agitation from the maid, but I saw her flinch a little.

"Come on, Kevin. You can't send her back. Her company has already been paid and it's non-refundable. Just enjoy the service and maybe make a friend," he said, and hung up, probably knowing I'd keep going.

I put my phone back in my sweats pocket and sighed. "What's your name?" I asked the frightened little thing. She couldn't have been more than 5'5.

"They said you get to choose, sir," the frightened woman answered, her head still lowered, like she was afraid... or not allowed, to look up.

"What?" I responded, genuinely shocked. "Are you okay? Look at me," I told her, getting genuinely creeped out.

Finally, she lifted her head and I had to stop from gasping as I looked back at an absolutely breathtaking Latina face, deep brown eyes accentuated by black winged eyeliner. Her lips were pouty and painted a deep red, instantly looking kissable.

"Hi," I said with a smile, trying to help her relax but didn't want to come off as unsettling or creepy.

"Hi," she said back, trying to form a fake smile, but the attempt fell pretty flat.

"Who is they, and why won't you tell me your name?" This didn't seem like a normal maid service....

"I have to do whatever you say, sir. My name is whatever you choose," she told me and reached into her long jacket pocket, removing a piece of paper. She swallowed hard and said, "I have been taken from my home, bought, and paid for." It sounded rehearsed, like a mantra.

I took the paper from her shaking hand and unfolded it, completely frozen by what she had just said. Reading the paper, it was a bill of sale, not a year contract.

Knowingly or not, my uncle had bought me a fucking person. This poor girl had been kidnapped and sold like property to my uncle, and then given to me.

I turned the paper over and in fine writing was a "care sheet." There was no sign of a name, where she used to live, or anything about her past life. Just that this woman would respond to anything I called her, and now that I "owned her" she would do anything I said. They would do quarterly check-ins to make sure she was "behaving satisfactorily, and if not, "she will be instructed and adjusted."

My stomach started to turn as I took all this in. There is no way my uncle knew he had bought a kidnapped and transported woman, and not an actual year contract of a maid. My uncle could be dense sometimes, but he was a good guy deep down and a phenomenal business man. But when he wanted to spend his fortune, he didn't always ask all the necessary questions. It's the consequence for trusting middle men.

"I can't believe this," I muttered, still staring at the paper and then the woman. God she was so pretty. She was precious. There was a sick breed of monster that would revel in hurting this delicate thing, but I instantly wanted to just take care of her. "How did... how did this happen?" I asked her.

"The men that took me... they don't want me to talk about it. They said customers don't ask questions. I'm just supposed to... obey. Please don't hurt me," she pleaded, visibly shaking. "I'll do whatever you want."

"No. No no, I won't," I assured her. "C'mon, let's sit down, okay?" I ushered the poor thing further into my house and to my living room, sitting her on the couch I had just been asleep on before everything changed. "Do you want to hang up your coat?"

The beautiful woman stood back up and undid her coat and shed it from her shoulders, revealing most of her mouthwatering physique. All she wore were strapped heels, and a matching velvet cotton candy blue miniskirt and bralette. I could see the fading needle mark in her arm from where they sedated her.

"They didn't send me with any clothes," she explained. "All of my outfits they selected are like this... to please you..." she trailed off as she sat back down again, quickly crossing her slender legs. That last bit made it clear what part of her "services" were supposed to be.

"Can we go out and get you clothes? I don't know how my uncle found these men, but... I'm not like their clientele."

She shook her head sadly. "I can't leave your property lines or they'll be notified. They don't want me escaping. These men are bad men and will know if I try something."

I sighed and clasped my hands in my lap as I sat next to her. "You can at least tell me your name, can't you? What if your name is what I want to call you?"

She smiled and looked at me from the corner of her hypnotizing eye. "I'm Jasmine, sir."

"HI Jasmine, I'm Kevin. I'm sorry it's like this, but I'm glad to meet you."

Jasmine turned to face me and pushed a long strand of dark, silky hair behind her ear. "It's nice to meet you too, sir. I'm just glad that you seem nice. I think you're a piece of hay in a needle stack."

We both looked at the floor, not sure what we were supposed to do now. This poor girl wasn't allowed off my property or the men who sold her would come running, and there's no way they would be nice about it. I tried not to think about what another man would be doing to this stunning, sweet and shy creature right now. I did know, really, but I didn't want to picture it.

"Do you... can I show you around the house? It's a little messy. I can't really say I've been taking great care of myself lately, and I wasn't expecting company," I explained. "If you're stuck here, I want you to get a tour," I chuckled, but nothing about this situation was funny.

"I think you and your uncle said he expected me to be some kind of maid service, um, which I guess I am, but... do either of you understand that no one is getting me at the end of the day?"

My eyes widened and I blinked. "So you're like... you're living here? A live-in maid?" I asked for clarification. I didn't know what the full conditions of her "service" would entail.

"Well, yes," Jasmine nodded. "My... handlers, I guess? My handlers told me to expect much worse than just cleaning, and that I better obey you, or..." she shied away, looking so small in her skimpy outfit she had no hand in selecting.

"So I guess we're forced roommates?" I scratched my head. "Because there's no way I can... it's too wrong," I said. "I could never force someone to do something they didn't want."

"I appreciate that. I can't say how relieved I am. The things they said you could do to me if you wanted to..." Jasmine closed her eyes and looked away, bringing up her arms to cover her bountiful chest. "I'll happily clean the entire house and cook all your meals just to show how thankful I am. I'll do the maid work if it keeps me safe."

I chewed my lip for a moment, allowing myself to think selfishly. I decided to do it aloud. "I fucking hate cleaning. I love cooking though. I work from home, so the house is my office. I have put minimal energy in keeping this place standing since my dad died. I won't treat you like a maid, but I won't stop you from cleaning anything."

Jasmine nodded. "It'll earn my keep, anyway," she sighed, resigning herself to her fate. "Even if you don't want me here, I am begging you not to send me back. Your uncle won't get his money back and they'll just sell me again to someone so much worse."

"Out of the people you could be sent to, this misunderstanding may have saved your life. I'm sorry this is what your life is right now, but you're safe here, and you don't have to worry about me hurting you or... doing anything to you."

After we had cleared the air of rolls and expectations, Jasmine did something I didn't expect; she threw her arms around me and gave me a big hug.

"Thank you, sir. I feel absolutely relieved. When they were bringing me here, it took all of my strength not to throw up. I was afraid I'd be delivered to a monster. Thank you," she said again and released me from the hug I had awkwardly returned.

---

After giving Jasmine a tour of my place, I set back to work and allowed her to do some cleaning she insisted on doing.

I had lost track of time when I heard a nervous, soft knock on my doorway. "Excuse me, sir, um... it's 5 o'clock. I'm not sure what time you wanted me to have dinner ready."

I closed the spreadsheet I was working on and looked down at the bottom right of my screen, seeing it was five after. "You're right. That's also me done for the day," I said, locking my fingers and stretching my arms up, twisting my back both ways in the process.

"Are you okay, sir?" Jasmine asked, her brows coming together after a particularly nasty pop.

"Yeah, just tight after sitting for hours," I said, standing up and stretching some more. "You look fit. If you have any stretches or yoga tips, I'd love to hear them," I chuckled.

"Right away, sir," she answered dutifully. "For this stretch I like to...." I cut her off as she locked her long fingers together.

"I didn't mean right now, Jasmine. I wasn't giving you an order, I chuckled." I'd have to get used to her feeling like she had to be quick on the spot if she didn't want some kind of sinister punishment.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said, hanging her head. "I didn't mean to...." Her voice instantly fell and sounded sad, worried.

"Relax, it's fine. I'm not mad," I said, going to the poor girl and rubbing her slender arms with a light muscle tone. "It's okay. It's okay," I shushed her. "What did they do to you?" I asked her, still rubbing her arms comfortingly.

She sniffled, like she was moments from crying. "I don't want to talk about it, but... I don't feel clean after the way they cleaned me."

"Oh god," I said softly, my eyes on her face, waiting for her to look up at me.

"When they took me, I was on my way home from work, and they drugged me. They stripped me, scrubbed me clean and... shaved me. When I woke up, I was in a sheer robe standing on a stage in front of a room full of men. An auction. The auctioneer, he... he fingered me in front of everyone to tell them how good I felt, how easily I would get wet for them, and so he could tell them I wasn't a virgin, that it was better that way because I already knew how to please them." She bit her soft lip, no doubt keeping back a sob.

"That's fucking horrible," I muttered, still holding her, letting her know I was there as she kept her eyes closed, reliving it. There's no way I could do anything to this sweet girl without her say so.

"I was bought by a man, who said he was acting as a middle for his employer, who I guess is your uncle."

"That's probably why my uncle doesn't know the details. He trusted it to someone else, and they went a shadier way. I need to talk to him about this." I was genuinely pissed. I'm glad it brought her to me instead of to some abusive beast, but this was still fucked up.

"You definitely should, sir," she agreed. She knew my name, but still didn't use it. "You might get tired of me saying this, but I am thankful I wound up with you and not one of those whistling, leering bastards at the auction. The man who stood in for your uncle... he was offered a discount if he showed them a 'preview' of what I would do for my new master. He refused, and the crowd was pissed, but we were allowed out... for a moment I thought he was going to fuck me in front of all those people just for a discount, so he could feel powerful."

I pulled her into a hug this time, and Jasmine hugged me back tightly. She quietly cried for a bit and eventually let me go. "Thank you," she said again. "Now what do you want me to do for dinner, sir?" she asked and tried to wipe a tear away without damaging her makeup.

"It's your first day, and you've been through a hell of a lot. Let's just get delivery. That was my initial plan anyway," I suggested. I waited to see if she had any rebuttals or anything to add, but she just stood there and fidgeted. "Delivery it is, then," I shrugged.

"Was-was I supposed to say something? I'm sorry. I just thought we'd do whatever you wanted. I'm sorry, sir." She fidgeted again, her clear trauma response. At least she had an easy tell for me to read, as well as her refusing eye contact.

"Please stop apologizing, Jasmine. I'm not mad. I don't know what they told you I would do to you, but I'm not going to do any of it, I promise. I'm not going to hit you, I won't take away your clothes or deny you meals. I won't touch you without permission. I don't see you as something for me to use. You're a person here." I looked into those deep brown eyes that seemed canyon deep. She analyzed me, looking to see if I had any tells, I figured, but I was dead serious.

"Okay," she nodded. "I'm just... I'm trying to feel like this isn't a trap. I was in my own bed two days ago, and now I'm living in a stranger's house; a nice stranger, but a stranger, wearing a fantasy outfit."

I nodded. "I can't relate, but I understand that you have zero trust right now. Let me put in an order, we'll have dinner together, and we'll chat. I know it'll be a little weird because you don't have proper clothes, but I want you to relax. This is going to be the hardest thing for you to do, but for now please see yourself as more of a guest."

"That sounds nice, sir," she agreed, and followed me out of my office. I thought about how I converted the spare bedroom into an office. We'd discuss sleeping/bedroom arrangements later. I didn't want either of us on the couch, so we'd have to do some negotiating.

"After dinner you can take a bath or shower, or if it seems nice we can turn on the hot tub. I really want you to be able to unwind."

"You have a hot tub?" Jasmine asked, and I swore I heard just a flash of excitement in her voice. She could live in it for all I cared if it helped her calm down.

"Yeah. You can use it alone, or if you feel comfortable, we can take a tub together. Whatever will help."

We came back out into the living room and I pulled out my phone to order dinner. I looked around and saw the start Jasmine had made to cleaning up after my depressed string of not giving a shit. "This looks great. You do great work," I told her genuinely. I held out a fist bump and she took it, a silly smirk on her face. What makes people relax more than a fist bump?

"Thank you, sir. I was a housekeeper at a hotel for a while. Some of the experience paid off," she shrugged, but her dazzling smile was still there.

"That's worth dinner and a glass of wine, I would say," I said looking back at her over my shoulder, and she smiled proudly. "If you keep making yourself useful like this, how could I send you back?" She smiled even wider. If I had to blow up her ego to make her feeling safe, then so be it.

With that out of the way, and Jasmine awkwardly pacing around but with a smile on her face, I put in an order for Chinese; one Mongolian Beef and one orange chicken with a side of fried rice and a crab rangoon appetizer. I should have asked her what she wanted, but based on the way the day had gone, it would have been a 45 minute conversation with a shit ton of assurances. I would work on her feeling like she actually still had free will later.

I sat down and turned on the TV, and I had to pat the spot on the couch next to me to get the skittish little creature to join me. I went to HBO and picked up where I was on my Game of Thrones rewatch.

"Don't say I was born under a rock or anything sir, but I've actually never seen this." She was opening up and speaking without being spoken to, so this was great. I decided to play with her a little, like we were real friends. She was still calling me sir, but we'd have to work that out later, also.

I hit pause and turned to look at her. "You've never seen Game of Thrones? Not even an episode?" she shook her head, pursing her plump red lips together. They had done her makeup for her to be extra appealing, I was sure. Without her asking, I started us at the beginning. "If it's not your thing or it upsets you, please say something."

"I'm sure whatever you want us to watch is fine, sir," Jasmine responded almost robotically, her eyes on the flat-screen. We had a lot of work to do, Jasmine and I, but it seems like we'd have plenty of time together to iron it out.

I sighed and sank back into the couch. I had to be patient. This girl had been kidnapped, drugged, violated and sold as a sex and cleaning doll that won the lottery of ending up with me. It would take her time to feel safe and trusting.

Our food came half way through the first episode, and Jasmine went fully rigid like she heard a gunshot when the delivery guy knocked on the door. I put a comforting hand on her shoulder and moved to get up, but she put a hand on my leg and got up first.

"I'll get it, sir. The money on the lamp table is including tip, right?" she asked.

I nodded and tried to make eye contact, but my eyes were glued to her ass and her toned stomach as she lightly bent to pick it up. "Uh, yeah," I finally formed words.

Still wearing just her sky blue skirt and brazier, Jasmine answered the door, took the food, handed him the money and closed the door, not a word exchanged. He was probably shocked by the gorgeous, half-naked Latina, and she was probably dealing with seeing someone in her state of half undress after her ordeal. It seemed more clothes than she was allowed on that stage, but it still couldn't have been comfortable.

She kicked the door closed and rejoined me on the couch. "This smells good, sir," she said happily as she laid out the napkins and plasticware, giving me a nice view inside the opposite side of her top as she did so. I was a quarter inch of skin from seeing her areola, I believed. I tried not to over objectify Jasmine, but she was so gorgeous and I was just so human still. She was made up and packaged, given to me in a very desirable way.

"I'm surprised you answered the door dressed like this," I said as I opened the crab rangoon box.

"This is the least revealing outfit I have, sir. Also, answering the door to a delivery guy like this is pretty tame to what I went through last night," she explained as I gave her three and kept three for myself. "Giving him money and taking a bag was a lot easier than having him watch me get fingered. He didn't even shout out suggestions of things that should be done to me."