Read Maid for It (A Maids for It Novella) for Free Online

know he hasn’t found in anyone else, he might not be
dead set on discovering what that truth is.
    And so I slide off the bench and kneel at his
feet, wrapping my arms around his thighs. “Please, Sir, you know
what I say is true. What you do to me, what you make me do to
you…it arouses me, makes me wet, turns me into a dirty little
whore. I know what I need, and what I need is you.”
    A wry smile twists his lips. “Perhaps you
just need anyone who’ll force you to submit.”
    “If I do, would that not be proof that I know
what I want, that I came to you willingly?”
    “Hm, perhaps it would,” he admits. “But since
I’m the first man ever to fuck that sweet little pussy of yours,
I’d like to think I’m special now.” There’s a note of triumph in
that statement that gives me hope.
    “You are special, Sir. If any man would do,
why would I beg you to keep me?”
    “Is that what you’re doing?” he asks,
filtering his fingers through my hair as if it’s the softest,
finest silk.
    “Yes, Sir, please, I am begging you not to
send me away.” The tears cascade down my cheeks now, a veritable
deluge. “I want to be with you, to suck you, to fuck you, to do
whatever you bid.”
    Please, please, let him believe me.
    He twists his hand in my hair and hauls me to
my feet. It doesn’t hurt, really, but I wince anyway.
    “Whatever I bid?”
    I nod as vigorously as I can with his fingers
wrapped in my hair.
    His mouth sets in a grim line. “Very well. I
know there’s something you’re not telling me, but frankly, I don’t
think I give a shit anymore. If it’s me you want, then it’s me
you’ll get, but you may find you don’t like the real me, especially
now.”
    Now I shake my head. “I will like you.”
    He lets out a short, sharp bark of laughter.
“I don’t need you to like me. What I need is for you to be my
slave. Do you understand what that means?”
    I bite my lip. “I think so,” I answer
shakily, although I’m only guessing how being his slave is
different from being his whore.
    “For starters, it means you no longer have
the privilege of asking for mercy. You will do whatever I want,
whenever I want, no matter what. If you fail to obey to my
satisfaction or if you beg me to stop, I won’t send you away, but I will punish you. Severely. And finally, from now on, you
will not call me Sir, but Master.”
    My mind races to process this shift in
our...I shy away from the word relationship and settle on contract .
    It’s not as if I’ve ever wanted to ask for
mercy. Even when he was fucking me and it hurt almost unbearably, I
didn’t consider stopping him. So it’s not as if I’m giving anything
up by losing that privilege. And since I also won’t ever fail to
obey him, the threat of punishment is no threat at all, especially
when it comes with the promise that he’ll never send me away. That
certainty sends a thrill through me, the opposite, I’m sure, of the
fear and revulsion he expects his demands to evoke.
    “Do you agree?”
    I meet his eyes, steady and firm in my
conviction. “Yes, Master, I agree.”
    “In that case, my dear slave, it’s going to
be a long, hard night for you. You may find before it’s over that
you wish you’d asked me to send you away.”
    A smile tugs at my lips, because I’m starting
to sense that he’s not nearly as cruel or callous as he wants me to
believe. Somewhere beneath that ruthless façade is a man I’ve
touched in some way that’s more than sexual, and we both know
it.
    More than that, he must know his warnings
strike inside me a chord not of fear, but of desire. The idea that
he’s going to force me to have sex with him all night long—and that
it will be rough, unrelenting sex—fills me with a dark, primal
longing. I know it won’t be easy, and it will probably even hurt.
I’m already sore, and I’m likely to be much more so by morning.
    And I don’t care. I even want that
soreness, a physical reminder of his possession of me,