Chapter 2: Building Tension
As I enter Kyle's condo take in a deep breath of the luxurious scent. I can't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment. My yoga pants and oversized sweatshirt should have been a clue that I am not a regular housekeeper. The place is silent as Kyle is probably still at work.
I couldn't help but feel a pang of envy as I took in the expansive view of the city skyline through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The place wasn't particularly dirty, but I rolled up my sleeves, ready to tackle the task at hand.
I started in the living room, dusting the shelves and wiping down surfaces.
As I worked, I began to feel warmer, the heat of the day seeping in through the windows. I decided I was a little overdressed and I to decided to pull my sweatshirt over my head, revealing a simple white tank top underneath.
I was grateful for the air conditioning kicking in, cooling my skin. I also felt envy as my apartment most certainly did not have air conditioning. I continued working, moving into the kitchen next. I filled the sink with hot, soapy water and began washing the dishes that were piled up in the sink.
Throughout the day on Tuesday, Kyle knows that today is the day I'll be starting to clean his house.
Finally, a little tired, Kyle's black Audi pulls into his driveway. Kyle wonders if I'm still inside, and has strange feeling about having one of his best friends cleaning up after him.
He shakes his head, grabs his bag, and enters through the front door, which he finds unlocked.
"Lilly?" Kyle calls to the house at large, dropping his bag and keys next to the little table by the door. "I'm home!"
He pulls off his jacket, making his way down the hallway, looking for me.
I stick my head out of the kitchen, smiling.
"Hi!" I say, bracing the counter and wiping off my wet hands on the kitchen towel. At this point I have my white tank top rolled up to make a makeshift crop top. I place the towel down and give him a hug.
"Hey!" Kyle turns the corner of the kitchen and sees me standing there. We hug and he becomes suddenly conscious of my chest up against him. But a moment later we're standing apart again.
"So how's it going? Did you find everything you need?" Kyle asks me, looking around the kitchen. "There are more cleaning supplies in the cabinet under the sink if you need them."
Kyle tells me, pointing to the cabinet with his thumb.
"I think I've managed ok," I say. "But that is good to know." I pick up the kitchen towel and dry off my hands better. "This place really wasn't that dirty." I mention while looking around the kitchen at my work.
"Yeah, well, I try to tidy up now and then," Kyle says with a tired sigh, his hands on his hips as he looks around the kitchen. "But work usually keeps me busy. I frequently have late nights."
There's a rather pregnant pause before Kyle speaks again. This isn't like how we normally are, just hanging out. I'm now cleaning for him. For money.
"Welp, let me know if you need anything," he says, turning and heading towards the living room. "I'll be out here just finishing up some work emails." Kyle continues, pointing to his laptop on the table. There's something in his tone that makes me a little uneasy, but I can't quite put my finger on it.
"Sounds good, thanks!" I reply, wanting to distance myself from the now-awkward encounter. I turn back to the sink and start scrubbing again, trying to erase the weirdness from my mind.
But eventually I turn off the water and dry my hands on a towel, then take a deep breath and walk into the living room. I hadn't got to the living room yet. He is sitting on the couch, typing away on his laptop. As I clean, I can't help but feel a little embarrassed that I have to clean in front of Kyle.
As I bend over to pick up a sock off the floor I feel my thong peak up out of my yoga pants. I don't know if Kyle noticed but I quickly adjusted my pants when I stood up.
Kyle is too busy typing away on his laptop to realize what I'm doing, but he can't help but glance up from his screen when he bends over, and he gets a look at my ass and your thong poking out.
When I straighten back up though, he is once again concentrating on his screen as if he hadn't seen anything.
My cheeks burn, as I continue to tidy up. I move to the other end of the shelf and bend over again, doing my best to not draw any more attention to my body. I begin wondering if this is really a good idea, having one of my best friends of many years paying me to clean his place.
The money is much needed but it still feels shameful to need.
Kyle finishes up his next work email, then stand ups and makes his way to the front door down the hall. He pulls out his wallet and plucks $60 from it, the agreed upon amount, and leaves it on the little table by the door.
Then he returns to the couch, letting me know that he left your money on the table for whenever I am done.
I nod and continue tidying up the rest of the living room, feeling both relieved and embarrassed.
"Okay, I think that's everything!" I call out to Kyle, who is now back on the couch.
I make my way over to the little table by the door, where he left the cash. I pick up the $60, and count it. Not that I think he would short me. It was not very much but it would help a little.
A few days later Lilly comes back.
The middle of the week Kyle is kept busy by work, but nonetheless he make my way home around 7pm on Thursday night.
He approaches the front door, wondering if I am already here.
He closes the door behind him dropping my keys and bag by the door.
"Lilly?" he call to the house at large, wondering if I am there. He ventures into the house looking for you.
Kyle finds me in the living room - cleaning up around the computer desktop I had overlooked before. It is a hot day and I've found myself working in just a sports bra and shorts.
"Hey, Kyle," I say, clearing my throat after cleaning in silence for awhile.
"Oh hey," Kyle says in greeting, finding me in the living room. For a second, his brain has to register the fact that I'm standing there in a skimpy pair of shorts and a sports bra.
"All good in here?" he asks, looking around to see what I've done so far.
"Yeah, I am almost done here," I say, standing up straight and dusting my hands off on my shorts. I can feel the heat of my blush creeping up my cheeks. I kind of forgot I was just in a sports bra and shorts, but Kyle doesn't seem to mind.
"Okay, great," Kyle says idly, nodding. There's another awkward pause. "Well, I'll be at my desk in my office if you need anything."
He turns and heads out of the living room, towards the unused second bedroom that he made into a office. Kyle makes a detour for the little table by the door, where he grabs his wallet and once again lays out my money for, for whenever I leave.
Thinking of me and that sports bra, this time he puts $100.
He then turns around and goes to sit at his desk in the office.
I watch him go, feeling a mix of relief and unease. I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts, and decide to finish up the living room. I grab a nearby cloth and start dusting the coffee table, humming softly to myself.
As I finish up, I collect my things and head to the front door where I notice $100 waiting for me. I quickly pick it up, feeling a surge of gratitude and relief. This extra cash will really help me.
But as I tuck the money into my bra I can't shake the feeling of unease that's been growing in the pit of my stomach. Did Kyle give me extra because I was cleaning in a sports bra?
I can't help but think about it as I leave his condo, the cool evening air a stark contrast to the warmth of his home. Does that mean I should dress even more revealing?
I tell myself it's just practical, that I'm just trying to stay comfortable while I work.
Kyle turns his head and watches me when I pick up the cash and go, wondering what I'll make of it.
The following week, work keeps Kyle busier than usual, and he ends up staying at the office until 7:30 or so on Tuesday.
Finally, he makes his way home and, with a tired sigh, pushes open the front door, wondering if I'm still here cleaning.
"Lilly, you here?" Kyle calls out as he drops his keys off just inside the door.
"Hi Kyle!" I shout out. "I am in the living room."
Still struggling with money I decided to take a chance and wear something more revealing in hopes of getting a tip again. Underneath my t-shirt, which I quickly removed upon entering Kyle's apartment, today I was wearing a black lacy bralette that showed lots of cleavage. I was slightly embarrassed to resort to such tactics but desperate times call for desperate measures.
I made sure I was bent over the coffee table wiping it when he entered the room.
Kyle makes his way into the living room, following the sound of my voice. He freezes, only for a moment, in the doorway, when he sees what I am wearing. However, he only glances momentarily, and he doesn't mention having noticed it.
"Everything ok so far?" he asks, proceeding into the room as if nothing is amiss. "No trouble finding anything you needed?"
Kyle asks, walking further into the living room. He takes a seat on the armchair across from the couch, watching me as I continue to wipe down the coffee table.
"No trouble at all," I reply, standing up straight and giving him a smile. I can feel the heat of my blush creeping up my cheeks, hoping he hasn't noticed my attempt to entice him. "I've almost finished in here." I paused, then added, "Would you like me to clean your bedroom? I've never been sure if I should go in there."
"Oh yeah, of course," Kyle tells me casually, waving my hand for me to follow them down the hall. "I don't have any skeletons in my closet, I promise you."
He smiles and leads me upstairs to his bedroom. He pushes the door open and shows me a large, but unmade bed with a huge armoir in the corner. There's a small desk against one wall.
"It'd be great if you could wash and replace the sheets actually," Kyle adds.
"I haven't gotten around to it yet."
"Sure thing Kyle," I nod, trying to hide my surprise at his request. It's not that I mind changing the sheets, but it feels oddly intimate. I push the thought aside and get to work, stripping the bed and gathering the laundry. "How is work going by the way," I try to keep casual conversation.
"Ah, it's definitely been picking up lately," Kyle says with a sigh. He sounds very tired after long hours in the office. "There's a big deadline coming up, and they kind of depend on me. But the chairs at work are a real killer..."
He cringes slightly in pain as he squeezes my back and shoulders with one hand.
I feel a pang of sympathy for him, knowing how much he must be hurting after sitting in those uncomfortable chairs all day. "I am sure you are very sore," I say. "Maybe you should go see your chiropractor or something."
"Pff those guys are crooks," Kyle says dismissively, stretching his back from left to right and then back again as I stand there.
Then he pauses and gives me an appraising look for a moment.
"Hey, you wouldn't mind... like, giving me a little massage, would you?" Kyle asks. "Just for like five or ten minutes, I promise. I really just need my back and shoulders to unclench."
I hesitate, taken aback by his request. A massage? That seems like a significant step beyond our usual dynamic. But I also understand his discomfort, and perhaps this meant he would give me a tip again.
"Um, sure," I say, trying to sound casual. "I can give it a shot. I'm no professional, but I can try."
"I don't need a professional, don't worry," he says, stepping forward and unbuttoning his dress shirt in front of you. "I really just need someone to help loosen up the muscles a bit. Is right here okay?"
Kyle tosses his shirt aside and crawl onto his bed, lying on his stomach.
I stand there for a moment, a little surprised he would just undress in front of me. I take in the sight of his back, unsure of where to start. I've given massages before, but only to boyfriends - never in such a... intimate setting with a friend.
I take a deep breath and approach the bed, "Here goes nothing I guess," I say while placing my hands gently on his shoulders. They're tense, just as he said they would be. I start to knead the muscles, working my way down his back in slow, steady strokes.
Kyle lets out an appreciative moan as soon as he feels the pressure of my fingers on him.
"God, that's good already," Kyle says earnestly, his voice a little muffled from the mattress. "If it's easier for you to reach you can sort of straddle my butt if you want."
Kyle suggests after a few minutes of me massaging him.
I hesitate for a moment before deciding that it would indeed make it easier for me to reach all parts of his back without straining myself.
"Okay..." I say with hesitation as I climb onto the bed and position myself on top of him. Something felt off about this.
I can feel his body heat through his pants and I try not to think about how I am straddling him. I continue to work my hands down his back in long strokes. I can feel his muscles slowly starting to relax under my touch.
"Ahhh that's great, thanks," Kyle says gratefully, feeling the difference in pressure now that I am on top of him.
"Really, you're doing me a huge favor here, I feel better already." Kyle admits.
His voice is soft and appreciative.
As we continue with our massage session, I start to feel more at ease with our unusual position - me straddling him on his bed while he lies face down on the mattress.
But then I noticed with the motion of massaging my nipples have slipped out of my bralette.
I blush furiously, but thankfully I don't think Kyle could see them. I quickly adjust my top with one hand while continuing to massage him with the other.
"Sorry about that," I mumble awkwardly.
As I massage Kyle, even though he can't really see me, but he think back to the image in his head of me in the bralette I am wearing. He imagines how my breasts must be bouncing and shaking right now, but there's no way he can get a look at them to tell.
He justs tries to imagine it in his head, leading his cock to twitch in his pants. Luckily, flattened against the mattress below him.
"Hm? Sorry about what?" Kyle asks, having not paid attention.
He shifts slightly beneath me as if trying to find more comfortable position.
"No... nothing,"I reassure him quickly. "Just had to adjust my top."
I say, trying to brush off the awkwardness. I didn't feel like I should tell him that my tits popped out of my bralette.
"Oh ok," Kyle says idly, letting me continue my work on his back.
After a few more minutes, Kyle's muscles are feeling much better. He lifts his head.
"Ok, I think that's good. Thanks a lot, Lilly. That felt amazing." Kyle says honestly.
Kyles sounds surprised by how much better he feels. "It was uh nothing," I say still not sure how to feel by this situation.
I try to climb off Kyle as gracefully as possible, my cheeks are still flushed from embarrassment over the remote possibility he saw my boobs.
Kyle pulls himself off the bed after me, gathering up his shirt.
"Sorry, I'll let you carry on with the sheets," he says, smiling, as he pulsl on the shirt and starts to button it back up. "Let me know if you need something."
He departs the bedroom and heads back downstairs.
As soon as he is gone from sight though,I let out an audible sigh of relief. The awkwardness between us has been building for some time now, and each time we interact feels stranger than before. I can't help but feel increasingly uncomfortable.
It makes me wonder what else he might want from me.
I finish up changing the sheets and I grab the dirty ones and bring them down to the washing machine.
While I am busy handling the laundry, Kyle makes his way down the hallway and once again take his wallet.
He pulls out $150 this time, leaving it on the little table by the door. He then reachs into his bag and take out a small scrap of paper and a pen. He scribbles a note, folds it, and put it on top of the money.
He then retreat back to the living room to sit down again.
Unbeknownst to me in that moment, the note reads:
"Wear a tight, low cut top and no bra on Thursday, and there will be a lot more where this came from."
-K
I put the sheets in the machine, fill it up with detergent, and turn on the machine. A satisfying bing lets me know I started it successfully.
"You need anything else done," I shout from the laundry room as I make sure the drier is empty.
"Nope, that's it," Kyle calls from the living room. "You can head out if you want. See you Thursday." Kyle adds before continuing with whatever work he has left.
"OK then," I call back. I grab my t-shirt which was neatly folded on one of Kyle's dining chairs, slipping it back onto myself.
I made sure everything was neat before heading to the door. I see what looks like a bigger pile of cash on the table. $150?!?!?! For that amount I was very happy in my choice of outfit and that I gave Kyle a massage.
And the I notice the note underneath it.
My heart races as I read over those words again, and again. Wear tight top, low cut ,no bra, more money. On the one hand I had chosen my outfit specifically to try and get a bigger tip. But it was so much more embarrassing to be essentially called out on it. Not to mention requesting a specific outfit next time.
I quickly put my shoes on and head out the door. The streets outside are bustling with life - people rushing home from work or enjoying their evening drinks at one of downtown's many bars.
But all I can think about is that note tucked in my pocket. Over the next few days, I find myself constantly distracted at work, my mind drifting back to that note and what it means.
I hadn't decided what I was going to do right up until it was time to head back to Kyle's place. After checking my mail and finding more bills I sigh realizing I didn't have much of a choice. The money Kyle offered was too good to pass up.
I arrive at Kyle's condo, my heart pounding in my chest. I take a deep breath before opening the front door, pushing it open and stepping inside. I close it behind me and lean against it for a moment, gathering my courage.
Then, I reach behind my back and unhook my bra, letting it fall loose. I slip it off my shoulders and arms, and pull it out of my top before dropping it onto the table by the door. Time to get to work.
Kyle hadn't heard from me at all. Work kept him somewhat distracted, but at lunchtime I finds himself thinking about me and what I may have thought when I read the note. He wonders is the fact that I haven't called and yelled at him yet a good thing? Maybe I just deleted him number and blocked him out of rage?
Finally, around 7pm Kyle arrives home from work. He feels weirdly nervous considering he is entering his own home.
Kyle pushes open the door and looks around, but doesn't immediately see any signs of me.
"Lilly?" he calls, but almost immediately after he says it, he turns his head and sees my bra laying there right on the table by the door. He feels a rush of excitement and closes the door behind him, dropping his bag and keys. "I'm home!"
Kyle heads down the hallway, looking for me.
He finds me in the kitchen, wearing a skintight, low-cut top that leaves little to the imagination. My nipples are hard, pressing against the thin fabric, and are more visible than I hoped they would be. I'm standing at the counter, washing dishes, my back to him. I was nervous but it was too late to back away now.
I turn around, feigning surprise. "Oh, hey Kyle," I say, drying my hands on a dish towel. I try to act casual, but I can feel my cheeks flushing. I'm very aware of my nipples pressing against the thin fabric of my top.
I imagined Kyle was going to check out my boobs - why else request what I was wearing after all. But was he going to subtle? Was he going to acknowledge I followed his instructions? Was he going to ask for me? My mind was racing.
Why were my nipples so hard? I had been trying to ignore it, but now that Kyle was here looking at me I couldn't help but feel self-conscious. I think it was a mix of arousal and nervousness. I couldn't believe I was actually doing this, following his instructions like this. I was embarrassed that I was doing this for money but also it is hard to not be a little excited exposing myself on purpose.
As I turn around, Kyle realizes that I really have done as he requested in the note. His eyes can't help glance down at my chest for a millisecond, noticing how tight and slightly see through my top is. The buds of my clearly hard nipples poking through the fabric. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants.
However, he doesn't ogle and he doesn't make a huge deal out of it. His eyes return to mine and he is smiling as normal as ever.
"Hey, how's it going in here?" He looks around and notices the countertops are spotless. "Man, I don't think my place has ever looked so clean since you started doing this for me. It looks great! Still have everything you need?" Kyle asks, walking further into the kitchen.
I hesitate for a moment, caught off guard by his casual demeanor. He was paying me to be like this but he wasn't acknowledging it at all. "Um, thanks," I reply, trying to match his nonchalance. "I am glad you are happy with what I am doing."
Kyle nods, hands in his pockets, before he turns and make to head out of the kitchen he says.
"Well, maybe when you're done with the dishes you could tidy up and dust the living room?" he suggests as he goes. "I think it needs it."
With that, Kyle goes to sit on the couch, purposefully sitting myself right in front of the area you'll be cleaning in, then he pulls out his phone and pretend to do some work, going through emails.
"Sure thing," I casually say as I turn back to the dishes.
After I finish up with those I move to the living room like Kyle requested and I find him sitting on the couch. I watch him for a moment, confused by his behavior. He's acting like nothing is different, like I'm not standing here with my nipples on display. But also he clearly is hanging out where he wants me to go. I shake my head, trying to focus on the task at hand, and grab the duster from the cleaning caddy.
I start in the farthest corner of the living room, working my way towards Kyle. With the swiping of the duster, I can feel my breasts bouncing slightly. I try to ignore it, focusing instead on the task at hand.
As I take up the duster and start to move gradually towards Kyle, his fingers are typing away on his phone's keyboard, but his eyes are glancing over at me every few seconds, making sure I don't see him as he gazes at my body.
He can see my breasts clearly bouncing and jiggling in the tight top as I clean, and once again he feels his cock twitch in his pants.
"Oh, and when you get a chance, if you could just dust off the table too, that'd be great," Kyle adds, smiling up at me, and indicating the coffee table right in front of him.
"I swear, I don't know how it gets so dusty in here."
I nod, trying to maintain my composure, and continue to dust towards the coffee table.
Eventually, I reach the coffee table and I bend over it, reaching for the dust on the far side. He is definitely being subtle but I can still sense Kyle's gaze on me. I can feel my breasts straining against the tight fabric of my top as I bend over, my nipples still becoming hard again this close to Kyle. I try to focus on the task at hand, but it's difficult with Kyle's head so close to my breasts.
"How is that?" I ask.
Although Kyle continues to type and scroll, his eyes are, in reality, directed just above the screen of my phone. Zeroed in on my chest. He watches, almost entranced, as they jiggle and quake more wildly with each of my swipes across the table.
When I speak, Kyle "looks up" from his screen, but he doesn't inspect the table. He is looking right into my eyes.
"It's... very, very nice," Kyle say appraisingly, in a quiet voice. He feels his cock straining against the cotton of his boxers as it throbs to gradual hardness, luckily hidden. "You may continue." He adds.
That fact that Kyle didn't even look at the table confirms my feelings that he is more interested in my large breasts than a clean table. I can feel his eyes on me, taking in the sight of my chest as they sway and bounce with each movement. I try to ignore the heat rising in my cheeks and the anxious fluttering in my stomach.
As I finish dusting the coffee table, I stand up straight and continue on with dusting the room.
I can feel Kyle's gaze still on me, and it's starting to make me feel distinctly self-conscious. I hope the tip was worth it today.
Kyle sits there for a while, subtly watching me, although he is sure I can feel his gaze on my curvy body.
Once I eventually move on to another room to continue cleaning, he hauls himself up off the couch and makes his way towards the front door again.
He takes out his wallet, and pulls several large bills out. He lays $200 down onto the table, and scribble another little note which he folds up and puts it next to it. Then he returns to the couch.
The note, that I will find later, reads: "This weekend, you'll receive a white box in the mail. Wear what's in the box on Tuesday, and I'll double today's payment. You're to address me only as 'Daddy'."
Today as finish I approach the door and find the money. I decide a little humiliation is worth it as with this money I could finally catch up on last month's rent. I still had plenty of other bills to pay and next month was rapidly approaching but this 'job' was helping. I find another folded up note on the table. This time I quickly put it in my pocket - I wondered what Kyle had to say this time but I wanted to quickly get out of there.
I take a quick look around and notice Kyle doesn't seem to be nearby. Quickly pulling my top over my head I am briefly topless in Kyle's hallway. I grab my bra off the table and put it on before replacing my top. I wasn't ready for the rest of the world to stare at my tits.
I then head out to catch my bus home. I feel a wave of relief as I walk away from Kyle's condo. I was glad that the job is done and over with for today - the fact that we didn't even acknowledge what we were doing was confusing.
Once I leave, he pulls out his laptop and navigates to a website he previously bookmarked. He smiles as the screen lights up his devious face. The outfit is perfect.
He clicks on order, and specifies the delivery instructions.
He knows she'll be home alone on Saturday, and he wants to make sure she gets it. He wants to make sure she has plenty of time to prepare for Tuesday.
Back at home, I toss my bag onto the couch and kick off my shoes. I'm exhausted from the day's work and cleaning at Kyle's. I head to the kitchen to grab a glass of water when I remember the note in my pocket. I pull it out and hesitate for a moment before unfolding the note.
I read the words twice, my cheeks hot with a mix of embarrassment, anger, and arousal. What exactly was Kyle expecting me to wear? And "Daddy"? The term sent a shiver down my spine. It was one to get paid to wear skimpy clothes—quite another to be address him with such a title.
My mind raced as I considered Kyle's offer. The money was enticing - $400 was a lot of money to me with how far behind I was.
I took a deep breath and tried to rationalize my thoughts. Kyle had been nothing but respectful thus far— despite the slightly uncomfortable dynamic between us. He had never made any explicit advances. He had paid me a lot of money to be eye candy. It was up to me to decide how far I was willing to go. If I said no he would probably pay me the usual amount. It was even a little flattering he was willing to pay me to get a little better look at my tits.
I weighed my options carefully, considering the bills piling up and the fact that next month's rent was due shortly. I really wasn't in a place to turn down the money even if it would be super embarrassing to call him daddy.
The next few days pass by uneventfully. Work keeps me busy, and by the time Friday rolls around, I've almost forgotten about Kyle's demands until a package arrives at my apartment.
I find a large white box on my doorstep, tied up with a red ribbon. It's addressed to "Lilly" with no return address or postmark.
Inside the white box lies a tiny little French maid outfit, definitely (and purposefully) too small to properly contain my large breasts.
The top is little more than a bra that likely won't be able to contain my breasts while I move around, and the short skirt barely covers my buttocks. The lace trim around neck looks like a collar and adds an extra touch of provocativeness.
I pick up the outfit and hold it against my body, imagining what I would look like in it. It's clear this isn't something I would choose to wear out of my own accord. This outfit on top of having to address him as Daddy feels like too much.
I sigh, putting the outfit back into the box. I grab my phone and type out a message to Kyle. At first I want to tell him to fuck off and call him a pervert but I still need to earn some extra money so I delete my first message and reluctantly type a softer message. "I appreciate how you have been helping me Kyle but I can't wear this - its too much." I hit send, my heart pounding in my chest.
Kyle thinks carefully for a few minutes. He knows the situation I am in - and he could very well just let you come back and clean normally. But that would not him toward his end goal.
Ten minutes later, I receive the following reply:
"You will not be paid otherwise."
After hitting send, he tosses his phone aside, ignoring it for the rest of the day.
"Fuck" I say to myself upon reading Kyle's reply. I decide not to answer to leave my options open but I really want to tell him to get bent.
I'm not sure what to do next. I don't want to lose this extra income but I also don't want to feel like a piece of meat and be humiliated. I viewed Kyle as a friend and an equal - did he have this planned all along? Could of I avoided this if I would have just worn a bra on Thursday?
I continued to wrestle with the conflicting thoughts until I checked my mail on Monday. Among the usual junk mail and advertisements, there was a thick envelope from my doctor. My heart sank as I recognized the logo. I tore it open, and my fears were confirmed: another late notice, this time for $800. Apparently my credit card was maxed and the payment last month didn't go through.
I yell at the top of my lungs. I was nowhere near having that kind of money. I leaned against the wall, my head spinning. This was getting out of hand. I needed to find a way to make more money, and fast. I
It seemed like I had run out of options. The only thing left was Kyle's offer, no matter how humiliating it was.
I sat down on the couch, staring at the white box on the coffee table. The outfit inside seemed to mock me. I sighed, running my fingers through my hair in frustration. This was not what I had planned for my life. Desperate and alone.
I looked at my phone, considering sending a message to Kyle again. But what would I say? That I was sorry? That I changed my mind?
I decided on a simple message - trying to minimize my embarrassment. "Fine. I'll do it."
It's late on Monday evening when Kyle hears his phone buzz on the table. He picks it up and sees my message, grinning and feeling that powerful, victorious feeling course through him again.
My phone lights up a few minutes later with a reply.
"Good girl." Kyle types back, a smirk playing on his lips as he hits send. He leans back in his chair, feeling victorious. He knew I would cave eventually, and it's always more enjoyable when they do.
"See you tomorrow Daddy," I type - cringing the whole time. I force myself to hit send.
I just want to cry. I try to talk myself into thinking maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe it will just be like last time. I sigh and start up the shower. I shave my legs and groin with how revealing an outfit I will be wearing.
When the time comes on Tuesday I pack the outfit into a bag to bring over to Kyle's place. There is no way I am wearing that thing on the bus.
So as soon as I arrive at Kyle's place. Once inside, I go into the bathroom and close the door behind me.
I shimmy out of my clothes - save my thong. I then pull the French maid outfit from my bag. The lace digs into my skin as I struggle to pull it down over my hips and ass. Once it's on, I look at myself in the mirror. It isn't much better than I imagined it would be. It's small and lacy, with a tight fit that leaves little to the imagination. The bra barely contain my breasts, and the skirt is so short Kyle will see my ass if I bend over at all.
I barely recognize myself in this outfit. I had to admit I looked hot but I was so embarrassed that I was forced to wear this - a part of me wanted to run out of there right then and there. But I couldn't turn down the money.
I take a deep breath and steel myself for what’s to come. I grab my bag and make my way out of the bathroom, trying to ignore how tight the outfit feels on my breasts. I then get to work.
After mytext on Monday evening, Kyle finds himself thinking about what might happen so much that the following day at work seems to drag on longer than usual for him.
Finally, the end of the day arrives and Kyle ensures that I'm out of the office at a decent time. Half an hour later, Kyle's Audi pulls into the driveway and he parks. He takes a heavy breath before heading inside.
"I'm home," Kyle calls out cautiously to the empty hallway, as I close the front door behind me. I drap my bag, keys, and jacket, and walk slowly down the hall. "Lilly?" he calls again.
I am cleaning in the living room when I hear Kyle walk through the door. 'Frick he is home earlier than usual,' I think to myself. I was working quickly hoping that I wouldn't have to stay too long with him here.
I had just finished fluffing the couch cushions. I knew he was going to want to inspect his purchase so I figured I might as well get it over with.
I adjust my outfit and make sure I am as decent as possible then turn around and walk towards him, trying to maintain my composure.
I hope he doesn't notice how nervous I am. "Hi Daddy, welcome home," I force myself to say.
Kyle smiles when I turn around and greet him, addressing him properly. He knows I'm trying to hide it, but he can tell from my trembling voice how nervous I am.
"Thank you," Kyle says softly. And for the first time since our arrangement began, Kyle didn't even bother attempting to hide the fact that his eyes are raking up and down my body. He lets out an involuntary little "mm" from the back of his throat as he inspects me like a piece of meat.
The outfit, he sees, has worked perfectly and as intended. The skirt is so small that my ass is barely hidden - even the slightest bend forward and the curved slope of your cheeks would show. The top is what steals the show, however. The cups are absurdly small, only just covering my nipples, and my heavy breasts seem to be trying their hardest to escape. The slightest movement of my body makes them jiggle conspicuously.
By the time he looks back up at my face, I can see the glaze of lust in his eyes.
"Everything going ok?" he asks me innocently.
Kyle asks in a tone as if he doesn't know exactly why he requested this outfit. While his words were still professional he certainly wasn't opposed to ogling me anymore.
"I'm fine," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. I can feel a blush creeping up my neck as I stand there in front of him, feeling like a sex doll.
I try to maintain my composure, but it's hard when Kyle's eyes are openly roaming over my body, taking in every curve and inch of exposed skin. I resign myself to the fact that if he watched me clean, Kyle was going to see a lot of me today. My large breasts frequently had escaped the top while I cleaned.
"Good, good," Kyle says, nodding, then he seems to snap out of it and look around. "Well, I'll let you get back to it. I take it you haven't vacuumed yet? It would be great if you could. I'll just be here if you need me." Kyle adds.
He indicates the couch, moving over and sitting down as he takes out my phone and pretends to be working on it.
He's acting like nothing is different, like I'm not standing here in this ridiculous outfit.
I take a deep breath and turn back to the task at hand, grabbing the vacuum cleaner from the closet. I start in the hallway but quickly have to move to the living room. With each pass of the vacuum, my breasts bounce and jiggle, threatening to spill out of the tiny top. I can feel Kyle's eyes on me, watching my every move.
The living room is filled with a strange tension, one that makes my heart beat faster and my palms sweat. It's humiliating, but I tell myself it's only for today, and it's worth it for the money.
For a little while, Kyle seems to be typing away on his phone. However, a couple of minutes after I move back into the living room, he puts it back in his pocket and I know he is watching me work.
His eyes follow med in my slutty little maid outfit, my breasts bouncing exuberantly with every step. He feels his cock throbbing and growing to hardness in his pants as he looks at me.
Once I've finished the living room and turned off the vacuum, he waves for my attention.
"Oh, do you think you could dust the bookshelf and wipe down the coffee table as well?" Kyle asks, looking innocent, but knowing full well that the bookshelf will mean I have to turn my back to him, and the coffee table is right in front of his feet.
"Yes....uh.....Daddy," I reply, trying to sound casual but feeling anything but. I walk over to the bookshelf, attempting to keep some semblance of professionalism while my body feels exposed and on display.
As I reach for the top shelf of the bookshelf, I'm acutely aware of how short the skirt is and how much it rides up my ass when I lean forward. I can feel Kyle’s gaze on me, I'm sure appreciating the view.
It’s embarrassing, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. I take a deep breath and reach up to dust the top shelf, trying to ignore the sensation of his eyes on my body.
I catch Kyle out of the corner of my eye, his eyes roaming over my body again. It makes me squirm internally, but I push through it. This is for the money, I remind myself.
Kyle grins as I unsteadily call him Daddy again. Then he watches as I reach slowly up to the bookshelf, making my skirt ride up, revealing the curves of my pale ass. Seeing me obeying him, dressed up in that ridiculous outfit, makes him feel powerful and in control.
As I continue to clean the bookshelf, his erection is growing like a thick pipe running down the inside of his pants leg. And before Kyle even realizes it, his hand is rubbing against it, through the cotton material. Rubbing himself slowly as he looks at my body.
He waits for me to turn around and do the table next. And he doesn't bother removing his hand, not caring if I see that he is touching himself.
I finish the bookshelf - I feel my skirt cover my thong again as I stand up straight. Kyle definitely just saw my ass I think to myself as I try to keep my composure.
I turn around and see that Kyle's hand is clearly rubbing his erection. The thin veneer of pretending this was somewhat professional barely being held in place. I just hoped he didn't pull his dick out at this point.
The table is small and heavy, and as I bend over it, I can feel myself pushing out my chest even more than usual, trying to make sure my breasts stay in place. But they're barely contained in this ridiculous outfit.
I can't help but let out a small gasp as I realize how exposed I am, feeling a wave of embarrassment mixed with shame.