The Billionaire’s Curvy Maid

Catherine DeVore

Copyright 2012 Catherine DeVore

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Liliana walked through the stony halls of
Alan Treadstone’s mansion with a look of
frank disbelief plastered across her face. The
clicking of her steps echoed down the vast
hall as she struggled to keep up with her two
companions without breaking a heel on the
smooth tile floor.

“He lives here

alone?

” Liliana asked in

astonishment.

“Shh! Keep your voice down!” snapped Ellen,
her boss and closest confidant at the Holiday
House Maids service.

Beside her, Samantha snickered. “Don’t be
so paranoid, Ellen,” she said with a smile.

“Why do we have to wear heels?” Liliana
grumbled. She knew the answer—Mr.
Treadstone had demanded it when he called
last week, along with several other specific
and seemingly arbitrary things—but it still
annoyed her. She never wore heels.

Ellen took a deep breath. “Look, we have a
lot riding on this, okay? As you know, things
have been pretty slow for us lately. It turns
out, when money’s tight, people aren’t so
willing to fork out their hard-earned cash to
have someone come vacuum the carpets.
Girls . . . we

need

this job.” Ellen fell silent,

but the look of consternation on her face
convinced Liliana that her concern was real.
Things

had

been pretty slow for them lately,

but Liliana hadn’t realized just how bad the
situation was. She suddenly understood why
Ellen had been so eager to accept an
exclusive contract for the three of them—half
the staff at Holiday House Maids—to work
for the seemingly eccentric billionaire Alan
Treadstone. None of them knew exactly
what “exclusive contract” meant.

Things had moved very quickly over the past
week, as Ellen scrambled to find a team of
girls to work for Mr. Treadstone. None of the

other employees seemed interested in
taking the contract. Maybe it was the fact
that the billionaire was rumored to be a bit
of a weirdo. Ellen had agreed to go out of a
sense of responsibility. As the manager of
the company, it was her duty to make sure
that the whole operation didn’t go under.
Samantha agreed to go out of solidarity with
her friend. After that, they waited for two
tense days for someone else to take the job.
When Liliana finally volunteered, Ellen and
Samantha both had their misgivings. As the
newest member of the crew, Liliana was also
the least experienced. Still, neither of them
could deny her enthusiasm. Liliana was
determined to prove herself and keep her
job.

At the end of the hall stood a pair of heavy
wooden doors, outfitted with gleaming
brass. Presumably, Mr. Treadstone waited on
the other side of those doors. The front hall

of the mansion was more like a gallery than
a hall. It was lined with paintings that could
have hung in a museum—mostly portraits of
long-dead ancestors. Liliana focused on the
paintings to calm her nerves. She was
understandably antsy about the meeting
with Mr. Treadstone. As the youngest and
newest member of the Holiday House staff,
she was the most likely to lose her job if
they had to tighten their belts any further—
and their belts were already pretty tight.

Earlier that month, before Mr. Treadstone’s
fateful call, Ellen had talked to Liliana,
Samantha, and the other three girls on staff
to tell them that there wouldn’t be any
raises this year; probably no Christmas
bonuses either. Liliana took this news with
as much dignity as she could, but it stung,
considering that she wasn’t making a whole
hell of a lot more than minimum wage as it
was. She sighed as she thought about the

new pair of flats that she was never going to
be able to afford.

Maybe that’s why she had volunteered to
work for Mr. Treadstone. If nothing else, his
place would certainly be more glamorous
than the dusty old houses she was used to
cleaning. And, if she was truly being honest
with herself, some small part of her hoped
that maybe, just maybe, Alan Treadstone
would like her. She knew it was a silly,
girlish thought, but she was tired of feeling
broke and aimless. Mr. Treadstone could
take her away from all of that, forever.

Ellen reached the end of the hall first,
striding confidently on her three-inch heels.
Clearly, she had had more practice than
Liliana. She took a deep breath and knocked
on the door with a firm rap, exuding more
confidence than she probably felt. Samantha
strode up next to her and put her hand on
Ellen’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “We’ll

be fine, sister,” she said. Ellen nodded
wordlessly.

From far beyond the door, a deep, sonorous
voice boomed: “Come.”

Ellen smiled wanly at her companions and
pushed open the door.

Far across the room, Mr. Treadstone sat
behind a heavy walnut desk. His fingers
were steepled in front of his face and his
eyes were hard. However, when he spoke,
his tone was pleasant.

“I am glad you’ve come,” he said lightly. “I
was afraid my . . . unusual request might
scare you away.”

“Oh no, Mr. Treadstone,” Ellen replied.
“We’re very happy to be here.”

“Indeed. We have already discussed the
terms of your payment, so let me get
straight to the logistics of your stay. I have

prepared rooms for each of you—”

“Wait . . . rooms? You want us to live here?”
Liliana blurted. Samantha gave her a dirty
look and Liliana quickly shut her mouth.

“Of course. It is necessary that you be
available at any time that I need you.”

Ellen glanced uncertainly at her two
companions. Samantha raised her eyebrows.
Liliana just shrugged.

It’s not like my

apartment is that freaking great

, she

thought.

Plus, with what he’s paying us, I

won’t have to stay here for long.

“Your uniforms are in your rooms. I expect
you to wear them at all times during working
hours, and preferably while you are off-duty
as well.”

Ellen opened her mouth to speak, but Mr.
Treadstone cut her off. “I trust that won’t be
a problem,” he said curtly.

“N-no, of course not,” Ellen said quickly,
blushing.

“Good. You may begin work tomorrow. Your
contract will last for one month, at which
point I will reassess the terms.”

Mr. Treadstone spoke for a while longer
about the specifics of their duties—cooking,
cleaning, and the like—but Liliana barely
heard a word of it. Her mind was abuzz with
what he had just said.

A month! A solid

month of living in Mr. Treadstone’s mansion,
answering his every whim . . . I hope I can
handle it.

Eventually, Mr. Treadstone dismissed them
with the promise that he would have dinner
ready for them promptly at 7:00. “Starting
tomorrow, I expect you to begin preparing
my meals, but I will treat you tonight.
Please, wear your uniforms. I want to make
sure they fit.”

Liliana shivered slightly as he watched her,
cold and implacable. A hint of a smile played
at the corner of his lips.As she followed Ellen
and Samantha out of the room, Liliana felt a
thrill of anticipation. Whatever Mr.
Treadstone’s eccentricities, he would
certainly make for an interesting host.

####

Dinner consisted of pork loin marinated in a
Cognac and cherry reduction, braised
Brussels sprouts, and a tossed spinach salad
with dates and aged bleu cheese. It was
unbelievably tasty.

“You cooked this?” Samantha asked, too
surprised to pay attention to decorum.

“Of course,” Mr. Treadstone said smoothly. “I
do like to dabble in the culinary arts. If I had

time, I’d cook every night. But, alas, I have
other commitments. This is why I hired you
three.” Treadstone allowed himself a
momentary smile, before reverting to his
characteristic serious air. “I left instructions
for each of you in your rooms. Please review
them thoroughly tonight. Some people might
say that I am a hard man, but I prefer to
think that I am exacting. If you do as I say
and perform your duties well, I will
compensate you commensurately. If you do
not . . . well, don’t expect to enjoy my
largesse for long.”

A silence followed this grim pronouncement.
The three maids picked at their food
nervously, trying not to raise Treadstone’s
ire. They all knew the importance of keeping
this job—at any cost.

Somehow, Liliana managed to finish her pork
chop and make quite a dent in the rest of
her food. She was surprised to discover that

she especially enjoyed the Brussels sprouts,
which she’d always considered to be a bitter,
worthless vegetable. She also savored a
couple of glasses of a fine red wine that Mr.
Treadstone insisted on sharing, from a bottle
that looked older than she was.

I could get used to this

, she thought.

After dinner, Mr. Treadstone quickly
dismissed them. Left at loose ends, the
three maids decided to spend a little time
scoping out the premises. The house had
seemed big from the outside, but it was
positively massive up close. The thought of
dusting and washing all of those surfaces
was more than a little daunting.

“I thought three maids was excessive,” Ellen
murmured. “Now I wish I’d brought the
whole crew.”

“We can do it,” Samantha said determinedly.
“We’re the best maids in town.”

Liliana smiled. It was hard to argue with
Samantha’s unflagging optimism.

Ellen yawned. “We should probably hit the
hay, girls. I imagine that tomorrow is going
to be quite an ordeal. Be sure to read your
instructions before you go to sleep, though.”
The other two nodded solemnly, acutely
aware of the gravity of their situation.

After a couple of wrong turns and bit of
wandering, the maids found their rooms.
Liliana bid her friends goodnight and stepped
into her room. It was small, but cozy-looking
and well-furnished. A small wrapped
package sat on the bed. The tag said simply:
Uniform – Liliana.

Liliana unwrapped it slowly and pulled out a
thin, lacy black dress. It was so short, it
looked as if it would barely reach past her
curvy hips. Her stomach dropped.

This is the uniform? It looks more like sexy

lingerie! I can’t go out wearing this! I’m
going to look like an overstuffed sausage
standing next to Ellen.

The thought of Ellen in a matching slinky,
form-fitting dress made her feel ill. Ellen was
rail thin, with small, perky breasts. Even
though she was several years older than
Liliana, she was about as conventionally
beautiful as you could get. Samantha, too,
was thinner than Liliana, but she had full,
luscious breasts. Those two were going to
look like sex goddesses, assuming they were
willing to parade around in those sexy
outfits.

Liliana had never been happy with her
weight. She always felt self-conscious in her
standard maid uniform—dark slacks and a
green polo shirt—which was a hell of a lot
less revealing than this lacy number.

I

should just leave now

, she thought with

glum determination.

This was a mistake. Mr.

Treadstone isn’t going to want to see me in
that.

She had the dress half stuffed into the

box when she remembered Mr. Treadstone’s
lingering gaze, soaking in the curves of her
body.

Then again . . .

she thought wickedly,

what do I really have to lose?

Hesitantly, Liliana stripped off her clothes
and pulled on the dress. She stood in front of
the floor-length mirror in the corner of the
room and examined her body critically. A
dangerous amount of cleavage spilled out of
the lacy, v-neck top, which just barely
concealed her nipples. Her long black hair
cascaded over her shoulders, blending in
with the satiny black fabric of the dress. Her
soft, curvy thighs peeked out from beneath
the satiny black skirt, which clung lewdly to
her hips and ass.

“Jesus,” Liliana breathed, as she twirled in
front of the mirror. “I can’t believe I’m going
to go through with this.” Even as her heart

fluttered with nervous tension, she felt a
wave of heat run down her spine and
coalesce between her thighs. As slinky and
impractical as it was, the uniform was
undeniably sexy. Hesitantly, she wiggled her
hips, trying to adopt a seductive pose. Even
with her nervousness and self-doubt, she
couldn’t help enjoying the way the material
hugged and accentuated her curves. She
didn’t usually wear provocative clothes; she
preferred to buy herself loose-fitting
garments that didn’t draw attention to
themselves. Even the tight-fitting Holiday
House blouse that she wore at work had
been a struggle for her at first, but it was
nothing compared to this.

Still, she remembered the way Mr.
Treadstone had looked at her, almost . . .
hungrily.

Maybe this is what he wants

, she mused.

I’ll

never know unless I try.

After a few more minutes of pacing around
her room, Liliana finally retired to her plush,
queen-size bed and sank gratefully into its
embrace. After a few hours, she even
managed to sleep.

####

The next morning, Liliana rose early and
donned her lacy uniform in a rush. She knew
she had to do it quickly, before she lost her
nerve. She danced around her room, trying
to get used to the feel of the material
against her body. The sound of footsteps in
the hall told her that she didn’t have much
time before she’d have to leave her room
and face the day.

It’s just a dress

, she thought.

Just a dress. I

can do this.

Liliana took a deep breath and stepped out
of her room. She nearly ran into Samantha,
who had been pacing back and forth in the
hallway, her lacy skirt billowing up around
her waist. Liliana tried not to stare, but she
couldn’t help catching a glimpse of
Samantha’s cream-colored panties as the
poor girl twirled around to face her.
Samantha was clearly distraught.

“What are we

doing

here?” she cried,

grabbing Liliana’s arm. She gestured at her
uniform. “Look at these fucking things! How
can we be expected to work in these
conditions?!”

Liliana pressed a finger to her friend’s lips,
looking back and forth to make sure that Mr.
Treadstone hadn’t heard. “You know how
much we need this job,” she whispered.
“Trust me, I’m not very comfortable in this
outfit either, but . . .we can get through this
together, okay?”

Samantha cocked her head and stared into
Liliana’s eyes, as if trying to glean whether
she meant what she was saying. “You know,
you’re stronger than you look,” she said
slowly.

Liliana smiled. “Thanks,” she murmured.
Without pausing to think about what she
was doing, Liliana wrapped her arms around
Samantha and pulled her close. She could
feel Samantha’s pert breasts pressing
against her own, could smell lavender and
chamomile in her hair. Liliana blushed as she
felt heat building between her thighs.

Samantha sucked in her breath and gently
pushed Liliana away. “Well,” she said,
smoothing down her dress in a flustered
tone, “I need to . . . I mean . . . we should
start making breakfast.” Her cheeks were
flushed a beautiful crimson.

Liliana giggled at her friend’s discomfiture,

even as her eyes lingered on Samantha’s
ample cleavage, which was every bit as
evident as her own. “Come on,” she said
with a wink. “Let’s go get Ellen.”

Ellen, as it turned out, was remarkably
composed. “Alright, girls,” she said in her
normal, chipper tone. “Time to earn our
keep.” She led the other two women down
the hall to the kitchen, seemingly
unconcerned about the obscene amount of
skin she was showing. If anything, she
seemed . . . excited. The way her ass
swayed as she clicked across the marble hall
in those impractical high heels

couldn’t

be a

coincidence.

Maybe Ellen has secrets I don’t know about

,

Liliana mused, watching her boss sashay into
the kitchen.

Within a few minutes, Ellen had raided the
fridge for the ingredients to make a gruyere

omelet with wild mushrooms and a side of
bacon. It might not have been restaurant
quality, but it was a pretty impressive
breakfast all the same. Samantha made
coffee, and then got to work on the dishes.

“Liliana, dear,” Ellen called out sweetly, as
she arranged the food on a serving tray,
“can you take this up to Mr. Treadstone?”

Liliana gulped.

Why do I have to be the first

one to interact with him?

she thought

desperately.

“O-of course,” she stammered, grabbing the
tray and heading upstairs before her nerves
could get the better of her.

She ascended two floors using the wide
marble staircase that dominated the parlor,
careful not to spill a drop of coffee or orange
juice, and followed Ellen’s directions all of
the way to the end of the quiet, third-floor
landing. She knocked timidly on a heavy

wooden door that was ostentatiously carved
with the initials A. T.

“Mr. Treadstone?” she called out. “I brought
you breakfast.”

Still no answer.

Rather than standing out on the landing all
morning while his food got cold, Liliana
pushed open the door and stepped inside.
What she encountered was not a bedroom,
but a massive drawing room filled with
heavy wooden chairs and a large oak table.

I guess he must like entertaining guests.

Liliana stepped through the room and
knocked on another, smaller door.

“Enter.”

Liliana shivered slightly at her new boss’s
commanding tone, but she opened the door
and stepped inside.

“I brought you breakfast, Mr. Treadstone,”
Liliana said with more confidence than she
really felt. “Where would you like me to put
it?”

“Just there, on the table beside the bed,”
Alan Treadstone replied. He sat up in bed
and watched her as she set out his
breakfast, carefully arranging the silverware
and pouring a cup of steaming coffee from
the carafe.

Liliana was relieved to see that he was
wearing silk pajamas.

I don’t know what I

would have done if he slept naked

, she

thought wryly.

“I hope this is to your liking,” Liliana said
quietly. “We weren’t sure what to make.”
Rather than standing around nervously while
Mr. Treadstone tried his food, Liliana busied
herself pulling opening the curtains and
fluffing his pillows.

Maids do that, right?

she thought.

I mean,

real old-fashioned maids.

As she worked, Liliana realized just how far
over her head she was. There was a big
difference between working for a cleaning
service and being a man’s personal servant.

“This will do just fine,” Mr. Treadstone said
in his same blunt tone, as he chewed his first
bite of the omelet. His eyes never left
Liliana’s body as she moved around the
room. Once again, Liliana felt a surge of
heat in her crotch, the same one she had felt
when she had first put on the uniform, the
same one she had felt this morning when
she had hugged Samantha so tightly . . .

Liliana shook her head to clear away her
unbidden thoughts and focus on the task at
hand.

“I trust the uniform is to your liking,” Mr.
Treadstone said. It was more of a statement

than a question.

“Y-yes. It’s very nice,” Liliana said, blushing
as she watched him stare at her over his cup
of coffee, his eyes running up and down her
body.

“It seems to fit you well enough.”

“Yes, it’s . . . it’s perfect.” Liliana was
surprised to find that some small part of her
meant it. She had been terrified of his
reaction to her body, which was much
curvier than Ellen’s or Samantha’s, but he
didn’t look repulsed by her. Quite the
opposite, in fact. She waited as patiently as
she could while he finished his breakfast,
trying to ignore her heart fluttering like a
jackhammer in her chest.

“Bend over and put your hands flat on that
chair,” Mr. Treadstone said quietly, cutting
through the silence with deadly calm.

“What?” Liliana cried, her eyes as wide as
saucers.

I must have misheard him! He didn’t really
just tell me to—

“Bend over and put your hands flat on that
chair.”

This can’t be happening

, she thought,

standing there in a state of near panic.

I just

need to collect that tray, head back
downstairs, and pretend he didn’t say
anything. I’m sure he’ll understand.

And yet . . . Liliana couldn’t help but think
back to how urgently Ellen had spoken of
this job, how much all of their livelihoods
depended on it.

If I don’t do what he says,

he might just fire us on our first day of work!

Gritting her teeth, Liliana stood in front of
the plain wooden chair that Mr. Treadstone
had indicated and slowly bent over, placing

her sweating palms flat on the seat. He
didn’t move from the bed for several
minutes, just sat there drinking his coffee
and staring at her.

Liliana’s face burned under Mr. Treadstone’s
gaze. She knew that her far-too-short skirt
was no longer covering her ass, which was
pointed directly toward the bed. She could
practically feel his eyes lingering on her lacy
black panties.

At least I thought to wear something nice.

From behind her, Liliana heard a rustle of
blankets, but she didn’t dare turn her head
to look. Unconsciously, she curved her back
slightly as Mr. Treadstone approached, lifting
her ass towards him.

What the hell am I

doing?

she thought dizzily. She felt like a

marionette, being pulled around the room on
invisible strings. The

real

Liliana would never

submit to this kind of treatment. The

real

Liliana—

Mr. Treadstone’s meaty hand slapped across
Liliana’s fleshy ass cheek like a whip. She
yelped in surprise, her ass stinging from the
force of the blow. Before she could catch her
breath, he spanked her other cheek, even
harder. Liliana whimpered, glancing back
over her shoulder before she could stop
herself.

Mr. Treadstone looked like a man possessed.
She could see dark passions boiling behind
his eyes.

“Mr. Treadstone, I—”

He didn’t give her a chance to finish, just
spanked her again, and then again, and then
again. Liliana’s ass burned under his rough
hand. She could feel welts rising on her skin.

“Your panties are soaked,” he said roughly.
“I knew this would get you off. I always

know the type.”

Liliana opened her mouth to spit out a
retort, but she realized that what he said
was true. She couldn’t deny the growing
wetness in her pussy, which was soaking
through her thin lace panties. Liliana had
never thought of herself as submissive. What
little sex she’d had in college had always
been tender, safe. But Mr. Treadstone
seemed to be unlocking something inside of
her, something dark hidden in the depths of
her heart.

Suddenly, the spanking stopped.

“Mr. Treadstone?” Liliana asked quietly,
glancing over her shoulder. His hand was
poised above her ass, like a rattlesnake
waiting to strike.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked in that
same, affectless tone. “Truly?”

“No,” Liliana blurted, before she could stop
herself. “No, sir!”

“Good,” he whispered. “I think we’ll get
along just fine.” He resumed spanking her
with slow, heavy strokes.

“What about Ellen and Samantha?” Liliana
found herself asking, gasping out the words
between slaps.

He paused. “What about them?” he asked
curiously.

If it was possible to flush an even deeper
shade of crimson, Liliana’s body found a
way. “I mean . . . do you intend . . .”

Mr. Treadstone chuckled. “What do I need
them for? I’ve got you. They’ll continue to
work here, of course, but this is between you
and me.”

Liliana breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s
good. I’m not sure they would . . . enjoy this

kind of thing.”

“Like I told you,” Mr. Treadstone said softly,
spanking her with renewed vigor. “I always
know the type.”

A few minutes later, Mr. Treadstone finished
Liliana’s corporal punishment and retired to
his drawing room. Liliana closed her eyes
and slowly straightened her back. She
probed gently at her tender ass and winced
as her fingers brushed across her angry red
cheeks.

Jesus! I’m going to have trouble sitting down
today!

Liliana sighed and picked up the breakfast
tray. She made the mistake of glancing in a
mirror as she left the bedroom. Her hair was
a mess and her cheeks were still flushed
with excitement. She groaned at the sight,
but there wasn’t much she could do about it.

Mr. Treadstone sat at a desk in the corner of
the drawing room, apparently filing some
paperwork. He didn’t acknowledge Liliana as
she walked by.

Liliana paused in the doorway. “Thank you,”
she whispered.

Mr. Treadstone didn’t look up, but she saw a
slight smile quirk at the corner of his lips.

####

Fortunately, Ellen and Samantha didn’t ask
any questions. They seemed to think that
Liliana was exhausted from huffing and
puffing up and down the stairs with the
breakfast tray. The implication stung a little,
but it was better than the alternative.

Not long after breakfast, Mr. Treadstone left

for work. The girls were still a little fuzzy on
what exactly he did, but they knew he
worked downtown as some kind of banker or
investor. Liliana found it a little easier to
concentrate once he pulled out of the car
park in his Mercedes and drove off towards
the city.

The rest of the day passed in a blur.
Somehow, Liliana managed to dust and mop
and vacuum, all while hiding the fact that it
hurt to bend over, let alone sit down. She
went through the motions as she had a
hundred times before, trusting her muscle
memory to get her through the endless task
of cleaning Mr. Treadstone’s home.

But somewhere, in the back of her mind, her
emotions roiled. It had been so long since
she’d felt wanted, since she’d felt like a
sexual being. Mr. Treadstone had been
rough, it was true—the bruises on her ass
painfully confirmed that fact—but she

couldn’t stop thinking about the way he had
watched her with naked lust in his eyes, like
he wanted to devour her.

What do I need them for? I’ve got you

.

The words echoed in her mind like a refrain,
like a promise.

“Come on, Liliana,” Ellen called. “It’s time to
set the table for dinner.”

Liliana looked up in surprise, with a feather
duster poised in her hand above a bookshelf.

It can’t be that late already!

“Yes, of course,” Liliana replied in a dazed
voice.

Ellen stepped out of the kitchen and looked
at Liliana with concerned in her eyes. “Are
you all right dear?” she asked. “You look a
little flushed.”

“I-it’s nothing,” Liliana mumbled. “I’m just
tired is all.”

Ellen nodded in understanding. “It’s been a
long day for all of us. Why don’t you set the
table and then go lie down for a while?”

“Thank you. I think that would help.” Once
again, Liliana was touched by how carefully
Ellen looked out for the well-being of her
employees, her “girls,” as she called them.

Liliana quickly set the table, feeling just a
slight pang of envy that Samantha was
slated to serve Mr. Treadstone dinner. She
itched to spend more time with him, to get
him alone again . . .

Liliana went to the kitchen to see if Ellen
needed any more help. Immediately, she
was confronted by the incredible aroma of
Ellen’s cooking.

“Pot roast?” she asked curiously. “I smell

rosemary.”

“You’ve got a good nose,” Ellen said with a
smile. “Here, take this back to your room. I
won’t tell Mr. Treadstone.” She carved off a
large slice of beef and set it on a plate with
some onions, carrots, and potatoes. Liliana’s
mouth watered.

“My god, can you cook,” she said as Ellen
handed her the plate.

“Oh, stop it,” Ellen said fondly. “This is just
an old recipe my mom taught me.”

Liliana thanked her and retired to her room,
wolfing down her food before it got cold.
Ellen might be modest, but her cooking
spoke for itself.

After dinner, Liliana lay down on her bed,
carefully babying her still-tender ass. She
didn’t even bother to take off her uniform.
When she closed her eyes, her mind

instantly returned to her punishment under
Mr. Treadstone’s rough, implacable hand.
She shivered slightly as she remembered
how she’d submitted to him, how she’d
asked him for more.

Liliana hiked up her skirt and slid one hand
into the waistband of her panties. Her
fingers slid over her small, dark patch of hair
and gently parted the lips of her pussy. She
was already sopping wet.

With her other hand, she slipped the straps
of her dress off of her shoulders and
released her heavy breasts. Her nipples
were already stiff with her arousal. She
cupped one of her breasts, squeezing the
soft flesh while she ran her thumb around
her nipple. She whimpered softly as she slid
two fingers into her tight, wet pussy.

“Oh,

god

,” she moaned, arching her back.

Liliana touched herself often, lying at home

at night, but this time felt different
somehow. After her spanking, after a whole
day of hiding her pent-up sexual desire, she
felt ready to burst. She pinched one of her
nipples, harder than usual, imagining that
Mr. Treadstone’s rough hands were groping
her breasts. She plunged another finger
pussy, enjoying the sweet ache of her
fingers stretching out her tight hole.

“Mr. Treadstone,” she whimpered, thrusting
her fingers faster and faster into her cunt.
“Oh,

yes!

” she screamed, heedless of the

amount of noise she was making. Her legs
trembled with the force of her orgasm as her
pussy clenched over and over around her
fingers. Stars flared before her eyes like
flashbulbs. Her whole body was covered with
a thin sheen of sweat from her exertion.

Jesus! I guess I really needed that.

Liliana stripped off her uniform and hung it

carefully in the closet before returning to bed
to read for a while and hopefully clear her
head.

####

The next morning, Liliana rose early to
shower before breakfast. She donned her
uniform with much more confidence than the
previous morning and practically skipped
down the stairs to join Ellen and Samantha.

She tried to suppress her secret smile as she
ate with the other girls in the kitchen, but
she could tell that they suspected
something.

“You look chipper this morning,” Ellen said
casually.

“I . . . I like it here. This place is beautiful.”

“Yes, well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.
I need you to work on the garden today.”

“The garden?” Liliana asked uncertainly. “I
wouldn’t exactly say that I have a green
thumb. Are you sure it’s a good idea?”

“It’s just picking weeds, dear. You can
handle it.”

Liliana nodded weakly and headed outside.
The sun was already high and it was beastly
hot out, but she gritted her teeth and got to
work with a trowel.

The hours dragged by as she worked her
way through the garden, pulling every weed
she could find. Even though her rational
mind knew that Mr. Treadstone would
probably never notice, she secretly hoped he
would be impressed with her work. The
garden really

did

look a lot better by the

time she returned inside for lunch. Her back
was stiff and her fingers were sore, but she

bit back her complaints as she ate cucumber
sandwiches with the other girls.

After lunch, Samantha offered to take a shift
outside while Liliana worked on the living
room, vacuuming, dusting, and clearing the
ashes out of the hearth. She hummed to
herself as she carried a bag of ashes to the
curb. She was surprised to see Mr.
Treadstone’s car pull into the driveway as
she made her way back to the house.

Can it possibly be five o’clock already? I
need to set the table for dinner!

Liliana ran the rest of the way back to the
house and dashed to the kitchen. She was
just returning to the dining room with an
armload of dishes when Mr. Treadstone
arrived. He sat down quietly at the head of
the table and watched her work, his steely
eyes following her every move.

“Would you like a drink, sir?” Liliana asked

softly, trying to keep her voice from
trembling.

“Glenmorangie 18 Year. Neat.”

Liliana quickly filled a tumbler with Mr.
Treadstone’s favorite scotch and returned to
the table. She set the glass on the table in
front of him and turned to leave, but he
grabbed her wrist in his muscular hand. His
grip was vice-like.

“Come to my bedroom after you finish your
duties for the day.”

“Sir?”

“I have something for you to clean.”

Liliana’s eyes widened, but she held her
tongue and nodded silently.

“Good girl.” He spanked her ass playfully,
just hard enough to sting a little as she
returned to the kitchen. She closed her eyes

and took a deep breath before she rejoined
Ellen in the kitchen, trying to slow the
thunderous beating of her heart.

Fortunately, Liliana spent the next hour in
the kitchen helping Ellen prepare dessert.
She didn’t think she could face Mr.
Treadstone again, not in front of Ellen and
Samantha.

After dessert, Mr. Treadstone quickly retired
upstairs, claiming that he had paperwork to
finish. Liliana tried to calm her nerves while
she cleared the table and loaded the
industrial-sized Hobart dishwasher. As the
minutes dragged by like hours, Liliana bit her
lip to avoid revealing her growing
excitement.

Finally, after all of the dishes were done,
Ellen dismissed her. Liliana made a show of
walking towards her bedroom, and then
dashed down a side corridor when she was

certain that no one else was looking. She
took off her heels, then doubled back to the
marble staircase in the parlor. She padded
silently up the stairs and down the hall in her
stockings. She eased open the door to Mr.
Treadstone’s drawing room and peaked
inside.

“Sir? I came, just like you asked.”

Mr. Treadstone was sitting in a plush leather
chair. He looked up from the book he was
reading and favored her with a rare smile.

“Ah, good. Come in.”

Liliana stepped into the room and quietly
closed the door behind herself. She tried to
hide her nervousness, but she knew she was
shaking like a leaf.

“W-what can I do for you, sir?”

“Come closer,” he said curtly.

Liliana walked to the other side of the room,
until she was only inches from his chair. She
felt dizzy with anticipation.

“Good. Now get on your knees.”

Liliana gasped and took a step back. She
had suspected what he wanted, but she
hadn’t expected him to be so bold. For a
moment, she lost her nerve. She stood there
for several seconds, trying to regain her
composure.

Mr. Treadstone frowned in consternation.
“You heard what I said,” he said quietly.
“Don’t make me repeat myself. I hate
repeating myself.”

Outwardly, Liliana blanched, but, even as
she shivered under Mr. Treadstone’s gaze,
she finally acknowledged something that a
small part of her had known all along:

I want

this.

Before she could change her mind, Liliana
dropped to her knees. “Tell me what to do,
sir,” she whispered.

Rather than responding, Treadstone stood
up and untucked his shirt. He took a step
towards Liliana and then unzipped his pants
and dropped them to the floor. Underneath,
he wore a pair of charcoal gray silk boxers.
Liliana stared hungrily at throbbing bulge
underneath, but she held back. She knew
better than to act impulsively.

Slowly, Mr. Treadstone pulled down his
boxers and kicked them aside. His cock
sprang free and throbbed in the warm air.
Liliana could see a pearly white drop of cum
beading at the tip. “Kiss it,” he growled.

Liliana leaned forward and pressed her
trembling lips against the swollen head of
his cock. Tentatively, she darted out her
tongue and lapped at the tip. She could

taste the salty sweetness of his cum. Her
lips parted of their own accord and she
slowly slid the length of his shaft inside,
relishing the way his thick length filled her
mouth.

Mr. Treadstone grabbed a handful of her
thick, black hair and shoved his cock further
into her mouth, forcing it down her throat.
Liliana whimpered as she struggled for a
moment not to gag. She could feel her
panties soaking through as she succumbed
to a mixture of humiliation and intense
arousal. Once she was used to the sensation
of swallowing his fat cock, she began to bob
her head on his shaft, swirling her tongue
around the tip. Mr. Treadstone bucked his
hips in response, fucking her face with
abandon.

Liliana wrapped her nimble fingers around
the base of his shaft and began to pump it in
time with his rough thrusts. Mr. Treadstone

groaned loudly and increased his speed.
While he held the back of her head with one
hand, his other hand reached into his
Liliana’s plunging neckline and squeezed her
breast. She whimpered with pleasure, her
nipple hardening in response to his rough
treatment.

“I want you to swallow every drop,” Mr.
Treadstone growled as his breathing grew
ragged. He pinched her nipple hard as he
thrust between her lips. Liliana could feel the
pressure mounting inside at the base of his
cock. She moaned with excitement as his
shaft jerked in her mouth, spurting thick
ropes of cum down her throat. She lapped it
up eagerly, swirling her tongue around the
throbbing tip of his cock to coax out ever last
drop.

Finally, Liliana sat back on her heels and
looked up into Mr. Treadstone’s eyes. She
could see a sheen of sweat on his brow, but

he still maintained an air of implacable calm.
“Show me your pussy,” he said softly.

Liliana—nearly out of her mind with desire—
was far beyond pausing for second thoughts.
She simply did as she was told, lifting up her
skirt and pulling aside her sopping wet
panties to reveal her glistening slit.

“It makes you wet, doesn’t it, sucking my
cock like little slut?”

Liliana knew that there was no point in
denying it—her dripping pussy would give
the lie to anything she said. “Yes, sir,” she
said softly.

“I can’t hear you,” Mr. Treadstone snapped.
“Does sucking my cock make you wet?”

“Yes! Yes, it does!” Liliana blurted. The
words tumbled out of her mouth before she
could stop herself. “

God

, I’m so wet right

now. Just tell me what you want me to do.

I’ll do anything.”

“Good. Take off your dress, slowly.”

Liliana stood up and slipped the straps of her
dress off of her shoulders, pulling the lacy
material down around her waist. Her large
tits bounced free as she swayed back and
forth in front of her boss. With one hand, she
slowly slid her dress down past her navel,
revealing her thin black panties. Her other
hand cupped the ample swell of her breast,
massaging it slowly as she stared into Mr.
Treadstone’s eyes. His lips curved up in a
predatory smile.

Emboldened, Liliana slid her dress down the
rest of the way, along with her panties. She
kicked them aside and took a step towards
Mr. Treadstone, swaying her hips. “Stop,” he
commanded. “Lie down on that table.”

Liliana froze, and then turned around did as
Mr. Treadstone bade. The large oak table

that she had seen before stood in the center
of the room. She wriggled up onto the table
and then lay down on her back, wincing as
her skin touched the cold wood. Her heart
thudded in her chest as Mr. Treadstone
slowly approached the table.

“Spread your legs.”

Liliana obediently parted her thighs and
showed Mr. Treadstone her pussy.

“Touch yourself.”

She whimpered and lifted one hand to her
breast, gently brushing her fingers across her
nipple. She slipped two fingers of her other
hand between the slick folds of her pussy. As
she rubbed her clit, Mr. Treadstone pulled off
his shirt and climbed up onto the table. He
grabbed her thighs with both hands and
roughly spread them wider. She could see
that his cock was already fully hard again.

Liliana gasped as he slid the tip of his cock
inside of her, pausing for a moment to savor
the slickness of her channel, and then filled
her with the full length of his shaft. He
grabbed one of her wrists and pinned it
above her head while she squirmed with
pleasure. “Jesus,” she whimpered, as he
drew back out and slammed into her again.
She locked her ankles behind his ass and
pulled him closer, lifting her hips so he could
drill her deeper.

Mr. Treadstone increased the speed of his
thrusts, his heavy balls slapping against her
skin.

“Tell me how it feels,” he growled.

Liliana leaned up and pressed her lips
against his ear. “My ass is still raw from
where you spanked me last night,” she
whispered. Mr. Treadstone groaned in
approval, then buried his free hand in her

hair and yanked back her head to reveal her
neck. He sucked and nipped at the soft flesh,
letting his hand slide down her neck and
over her luscious breast. She moaned
wantonly, begging him to fuck her harder as
her pussy clenched around her boss’s thick
shaft.

Liliana came with a scream, her pussy
convulsing rhythmically as she rode her
orgasm. The increased pressure drove Mr.
Treadstone over the edge. His breath grew
ragged as he pumped hot jets of cum into
her pussy. She ground her hips against his
dick for what felt like hours, milking every
last drop out of his shaft. Finally, she
unhooked her ankles and lay back on the
table, exhausted but sated. When Mr.
Treadstone pulled out his cock and climbed
off of her, she could feel his thick cum
trickling down her thighs.

Liliana stood up silently and retrieved her

dress. She felt more contented than she had
in a long time. “I’m glad I came here,” she
said softly.

Mr. Treadstone turned toward her and
smiled. “As am I. I never knew that having a
maid would be so . . .

invigorating

.

However,” he said sharply glancing at a
large wet spot on the table, “you seem to
have spent as much time making a mess as
you did cleaning.”

Liliana opened her mouth to protest, until
she saw the smirk on Mr. Treadstone’s lips.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she said playfully. “It looks
like you might have to punish me again!”

####

If you enjoyed The Billionaire’s Curvy
Maid, be sure to check out Caressing Her

Sexy Curves, a sexy BBW story about a
self-conscious girl who discovers a sexy
stranger who wants nothing more than to
worship her curvy body!

Catherine DeVore’s

author page

, has many

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