Maid Bare: Maid For Him, #1

By Nadia Nightside

"Get on your knees, or I get a new maid."
Incredibly gorgeous but also incredibly poor, Claudette has never had a good run of luck in her life. Then, she is hired as a domestic servant for the enigmatic Mister Castle and his beautiful wife. For one year of completely obedient service, they'll pay her one hundred and fifty thousand dollars—a dream come true. But Castle and his wife, along with their studly, tattooed assistant Terrance, soon draw Claudette into an erotic spiral of desires that become more and more depraved. Claudette finds out she was made to be a good girl, and good girls always do what they're told…no matter how erotic or filthy the request. They tell her to clean, and she cleans; no big deal. They tell her to dress sexy, and she dresses sexy; strange, but she can do it for the money. They tell her to perform sexual favors, and she's in too deep; Claudette feels she has to do what they say. But there's one last request—the Castles want an heir, and they want Claudette to give it to them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Midnight Publishing
• Release date: Dec 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9798223289692

Nadia Nightside

I've never been a big fan of rules, and reality is far too full of them. My fun little stories are the one place where you'll know the rules will never get in the way of your pleasure. Bad guys and gals win, sultry evil goddesses seduce and corrupt heroes (only to become their wicked servants, of course), bullies get the hottest babes, billionaires revel in their power over plebes; it's my fantasy to bring your power fantasies to life. Women become seductive sirens or giggly sex bombs (either way, they're deliciously fertile); men are dangerously-endowed studs or supremely lucky regular guys; arrogant and regal supernatural beauties who can melt steel with a glance go weak at the knees at the thought of their Man and His Pleasure; and best of all, the worlds these characters live in are places where nothing is better than a hot, mating rut with as many partners as possible. Patreon Subscribers Support Me and Receive Exclusive Stories and Early Access to New Releases: https://www.patreon.com/nadianightside Please consider signing up for the Nadia Nightside Newsletter for news of special discounts and THREE exclusive free stories--including one novella-length biker gang romp!--that you won't get anywhere else: http://eepurl.com/gWe2EH

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Author's Note: All Characters Depicted Herein Are 18 Years Of Age Or Older.

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Maid Bare

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AFTER WEEKS OF BUILDING up lust, his pent-up arousal finally boiled over, and Terrance had decided to take me for his own.

We were in the study. Strong and proud, he pushed me down onto my knees, my tiny lace outfit ripped apart by his big hands. The swirling tattoos on his ripped, hard arms and chest pulsed. His hands roamed all over my curvaceous body, feeling me up at his leisure.

The past few months had been too much for my morality. As much I knew I should resist, as much as I understood that I shouldn’t just let him have his way, all I really wanted to do was give in to his lusts and be everything that he wanted me to be.

All those skimpy, sexy maid outfits I wore. All those hot fishnets and little skirts. The cleavage-baring dresses and the sexy games of lingerie dress-up with the lady of the house—Terrance had watched all of it, and he wasn’t going to be content watching anymore.

But...but I had to save myself for marriage. I wanted to badly to be a good girl, a proper girl, even though everything about me looked like I was built for fertility and sex. My big breasts, my sexy wide hips, my long blond hair and big blue eyes...he could hardly be blamed for his lust taking him over when I had been teasing him so much.

I’m going to give it all to you, good girl, he grunted, yanking my hair hard.

My panties were soaked with lust and torn from his rough grasping. But still...I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t resist. Twisting, I slipped out from his grasp and pushed him to the ground. He stumbled down with a groan, banging his knees and head.

I turned and ran—the door was locked! Scrambling, I yelled and pulled at the door.

Finally it opened—I was saved! I rushed out, and straight into the arms of Mister Castle himself—the billionaire who owned the entire estate. The billionaire who had hired me as the maid.

Oh, thank you! I was breathing hard, my heavy tits crushed up against his broad chest. Thank you, thank you!

In my relief, I hadn’t noticed that he hadn’t said anything. I hadn’t noticed that he was completely naked, either, his enormously strong body completely ripped and stacked with concrete-like slabs of incredible musculature. And only dimly, after several moments, did I notice that his hands were pushing up my wet thighs and up toward my torn, soaking panties.

I looked up, terrified...and saw that he was grinning.

He’s the devil, I thought. The devil himself. I was completely in his grasp.

And it had me more turned on than I could have ever imagined.

There was still some resistance left in me, no matter how loud my submissive side cooed and moaned about how perfect and right this was.

I tried to back away—but I ran directly into Terrance, who pushed me down onto my knees before Castle. The estate owner's enormous manhood was displayed before me. I could feel Terrance growing hard against my behind.

There was nothing I could do. There was nowhere I could run.

They were going to take me no matter what I said.

MY NAME IS CLAUDETTE. All my life, all I’ve wanted to do is be a good girl and follow a strict routine, the sort that I could thrive under.

This would happen, but not in the way I expected.

I began my employment at the Castle estate on a rainy Monday in March, some many months ago, now. I drove up the long, winding path to the estate in the beat-up, sixteen year-old bronze-colored sedan that my mother had given me as a high-school graduation present. I think originally its paint was blue, but time and hard use had taken its toll. As it pushed up the steep hill toward the Castle estate, the engine coughed and sputtered, hacking out what I feared were its final sounds.

The rain had made the road slick, and I swerved more than once as I ascended the hill, but finally I made it up and circled into the drive. There was a tall, dark-haired young man in the garage off the drive, waxing a car in the dry safety under the roof. Intricate tattoos sleeved down his arms. He looked to be about my age. At the same time, I felt instantly that he was more mature than me—something about the way I saw men who worked with cars, who had that sort of rugged cast to their frame and face and hair. He had seen