Elena woke before the alarm, body heavy with the residue of dreams. The narrow bed smelled of her own musk, sheets twisted around her ankles like restraints. She sat up slowly and rubbed her eyes. Sunlight sliced through the slit window, painting gold bars across the floor. Her thighs stuck together, evidence of last night's frenzy dried in faint streaks. She peeled herself free and stood on wobbly legs. The mirror over the sink showed a woman flushed and wild-eyed, hair a dark tangle down her back.
She showered quick, water scalding to chase away the haze. Uniform waited on the hook: black dress, white apron, stockings that whispered up her calves. She buttoned with care, fingers lingering on each pearl. The fabric hugged her curves, skirt brushing mid-thigh. Practical, yet it felt like armor for a battle she craved. She tied the apron bow tight at her waist and smoothed it down. Reflection stared back, maid now, but the heat in her eyes betrayed the truth.
Upstairs, the penthouse stirred. Elevator hummed soft as she rose, cart rattling with supplies. Polish, rags, feather duster. Mundane tools for a war of glances. Doors slid open to silence. She wheeled into the hall, heels muffled on thick rug. First task: Alexander's study. Dust his world before he claimed hers.
The room greeted her with shadows and scent. Books lined walls to the ceiling, leather spines cracked with age. His desk dominated the center, wood polished to a mirror sheen. Papers lay scattered, a tie draped careless over one corner. Navy silk, faint stripe of silver. She inhaled sharp. It carried him: cologne, sweat, power.
She started at the shelves, cloth gliding over bindings. Dust motes danced in the light beam from tall windows. City sprawled below, tiny cars crawling like ants. She bent to reach lower shelves, skirt riding up the back of her thighs. Cool air kissed skin. No one watched. Yet.
The desk called next. She wiped the surface slow, circles widening. His chair loomed behind it, leather creased from his body. She traced the armrests, imagining his hands there, veins standing out when he gripped. Heat bloomed low again. She shook her head and focused. Tie still hung, tempting. She lifted it gentle, fabric cool and smooth between her fingers.
She brought it to her face. Inhaled deep. Musk flooded her senses, cock hardening in her mind though she had only glimpsed the bulge yesterday. She pressed the silk to her cheek, then lower, over her breasts. Nipples peaked against the cloth, aching. A soft whimper escaped. She glanced at the door. Closed. Safe.
No. Not safe. Thrilling.
She slipped the tie beneath her apron, against her thong. The silk dragged over her mound, cool pressure on swollen lips. She rocked subtle, hips circling. Dampness seeped through lace already. She bit her lip to stifle sound. Bent over the desk as if polishing harder, ass lifted. The position exposed her, skirt hiked. If he walked in now.
Footsteps in the hall. Heavy, measured. Her heart stalled. She straightened fast, tie clutched in one hand. Door creaked open. Alexander filled the frame, coffee mug steaming. Shirt open at the collar, tie missing. His eyes swept the room, landed on her. On the silk in her grip.
"Morning, Miss Reyes." Voice gravel and smoke. He sipped, gaze dropping to her flushed chest, then lower. "Settling in?"
"Yes, sir." She forced calm, but her voice cracked faint. She held the tie out. "Found this. Thought to... freshen it."
He stepped closer. Took it slow, fingers brushing hers again. Spark leaped. He looped it around his neck, knotting with ease. The fabric had touched her pussy moments ago. He knew? His nostrils flared subtle, scenting her on it perhaps. Or imagination ran wild.
"Study needs thorough attention." He moved behind the desk, sat. Chair creaked under his weight. "Continue."
She nodded and turned back to the shelves. Aware of his stare burning her back. She reached high, body stretching. Skirt climbed higher. Stockings tops peeked. She felt the air on her ass cheeks, thong barely covering. Bent lower for a forgotten spot, knees bending. The position splayed her, lips parting under thin lace.
He shifted in the chair. A low sound, almost groan. She peeked over her shoulder. His hand adjusted the front of his slacks, ridge growing thick. Eyes locked on her ass. She held the pose longer than needed, cloth forgotten. Heart pounded. Pussy clenched empty, juices trickling down her inner thigh.
"Problem, sir?" Innocence laced her words.
His jaw tightened. "No. Just... admiring the view." Smile sharp, predatory. He stood abrupt, mug clinking on the desk. "Carry on. I'll be in meetings."
He left, door clicking shut. Air rushed from her lungs. She sagged against the shelf, hand diving under her skirt. Fingers found the soaked thong, pushed it aside. She plunged two inside, walls hot and greedy. Thumb circled her clit frantic. The tie's scent lingered in her mind, his bulge etched there.
She fucked herself hard against the books, hips grinding. Breasts bounced free from the dress top, nipples rubbing leather spines. A book tumbled, pages fluttering. She cared not. Climax built swift, coiling tight. She whispered his name, muffled against her arm. Pussy spasmed, squirting in arcs that splashed the rug. Knees buckled. She slid down the shelf, ass hitting the floor in a puddle of her own making.
Panting, she gathered herself. Cleaned the mess with a rag, cheeks burning. The study smelled of polish and sex now. She straightened papers, tie gone with him. But the memory pressed between her legs, throbbing.
Rest of the morning blurred. She moved through rooms like a ghost, dusting frames in the hall. Victoria's gallery space next, canvases blank or splashed with color. No sign of the mistress yet. Julian's door closed, music faint behind it. She paused, ear to wood. Typing, rhythmic. His world sealed.
Lunch in the staff kitchen, sandwich tasteless. She replayed the study over and again. His eyes on her ass. The way he adjusted himself. Afternoon brought more chores. She polished silver in the dining room, bent over the table. Reflections showed her cleavage deep, apron straining. Imagined his hands there, squeezing.
Elevator dinged late afternoon. Victoria swept in, silk robe flowing, hair pinned loose. "Elena, dear. The study done?"
"Yes, ma'am." Pulse quickened at the new voice, elegant and warm.
"Good. Join me for tea?" Invitation or command. Elena followed to the terrace, tray balanced. Wind whipped up there, city roar distant. Victoria lounged on a chaise, robe parting to show thigh. Nipples shadowed under thin fabric.
They sipped. Conversation light: art, weather, the penthouse quirks. Victoria's eyes traced Elena's face, then lower. "You move with grace. Like a dancer."
"Subway survival, ma'am." Elena smiled shy. Heat crept up her neck.
"Call me Victoria." Fingers brushed Elena's when passing a cup. Lingered. Soft skin, manicured nails. Elena's core tightened again. The day layered want upon want.
Evening fell. Family dinner prep. Elena set the table, crystal gleaming. Alexander arrived first, tie perfect now. He nodded approval, gaze lingering. Victoria next, changed into a dress that clung. Julian last, hoodie and jeans, eyes down.
They ate. Conversation flowed over Elena's head, business and code. She served silent, bending close to pour wine. Alexander's hand grazed her hip "accidental." Spark again. Under the table, his foot nudged hers. She pressed back subtle.
Dishes done, she retreated to her quarters. Door locked, she stripped bare. The mirror showed marks: faint red from the shelf, thighs sticky. She lay on the bed, legs spread wide. Fingers returned, three this time. She stretched herself, imagining his cock instead. Thick, veined, pushing deep.
She edged slow, building. Pinched nipples hard. Whispered filth to the empty room. "Watch me bend for you. See how wet I get dusting your desk." Climax denied twice, body trembling. Finally, she let go. Pussy gushed, sheets ruined anew. She cried out, back arching high.
Sleep came fitful. Dreams wove the family: Alexander's tie binding her wrists, Victoria's tongue on her clit, Julian's shy hands exploring. She woke twice, fingering to quiet the ache. Dawn crept eventual.
Next day promised more. The study called again, routine set. But tension coiled tighter, a spring ready to snap. She rose, showered, dressed. Apron tied with purpose. Elevator up, cart ready.
Door to the study ajar. She pushed in. Desk clear save one item: the tie, folded neat. A note beneath. *For your thorough work. Wear it if you dare. -A*
Her breath caught. She lifted the silk, pressed it to her nose. Stronger scent now, his and hers mingled. She slipped it under her thong again, knot against her clit. Walked the halls with it rubbing each step. Juices flowed free.
Morning chores blurred into tease. She dusted high, tie shifting. Bent low, pressure building. In the kitchen, she leaned on the counter, rocking subtle. Orgasm threatened public. She bit her fist to hold.
Alexander found her there later, polishing counters. He watched silent, then approached. Hand on her lower back. "Everything to your liking?"
"Yes, sir." Voice breathy. The tie pulsed with her heartbeat.
He leaned close, breath on her ear. "Keep it close. Return it clean." Gone before she turned.
Afternoon alone. She fled to the pantry, door barred. Skirt up, tie pulled tight against her folds. She ground hard, silk soaking. Fingers joined, plunging deep. Climax hit muffled against shelves, body shaking. Squirt puddled the floor.
Cleaned again, evidence erased. But the game deepened. Desire dusted every corner now, settling like fine powder. One breath and it would ignite.
Evening brought quiet. Family out: gallery opening for Victoria, meeting for Alexander, online hackathon for Julian. Penthouse empty. Elena roamed free, tie in pocket. She entered the master bedroom bold. Victoria's side: perfumes lined the vanity. She sprayed one on her wrist, inhaled. Floral and sharp.
Drewers opened curious. Lace panties, bras delicate. She held a pair to her face, scent of woman. Pussy throbbed anew. On the bed, she lay back. Tie wrapped around her hand, she fucked herself with fingers wrapped in silk. Slow, then frantic. Imagined Victoria walking in, joining.
Orgasm ripped through, louder this time. Echoed in the vast room. She froze, listening. Silence. Rolled off, straightened sheets. Heart raced with risk.
Back in her quarters, exhaustion claimed. But sleep brought visions: the tie binding all three to her, bodies entwined. Dust settled, but desire stirred eternal.
Tomorrow, more rooms. More eyes. The penthouse breathed with them, walls holding secrets. Elena smiled into the dark. She dusted surfaces. They dusted her restraint thin.
The coil tightened another turn. Snap inevitable. For now, she held the tie close, fabric warm from her skin. Whispered goodnight to ghosts of touch. City lights winked approval.
She drifted, body sated yet hungry. Dreams promised escalation. Chores morphed to caresses in her mind. She welcomed the fall.
Morning light found her ready. Uniform crisp, tie hidden in apron pocket. Elevator up. Study waited, desk gleaming. She entered with purpose. Cloth in hand, but eyes on the chair.
He would come. Watch. Adjust. The dance continued. Dust and desire, intertwined forever.
She bent to work, ass presented. Waited for footsteps. Heart open, pussy wet. The threshold crossed, no return.