Maid to Please by Lisa X Lopez

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Consuela, a desperate illegal immigrant, seizes the chance of a lifetime as a live-in maid for the wealthy Walters family. But the awkward, perverted son Keith has other plans. With hypnotic music, mind-melting porn, and relentless conditioning, he turns the dutiful housekeeper into his eager cocksucking slut and personal breeding bitch. Watch as Consuela's resistance crumbles, leading her to eagerly clean his cum-covered cock, get fucked raw in front of his parents, and beg to be knocked up with the next generation of Walters heirs. A filthy tale of hypnotic corruption, maid training, and taboo family breeding.

Maid to Please by Lisa X Lopez

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Opportunity

Consuela was not a bad person, she just needed an opportunity. She'd never broken a law before, but all of that changed when she crossed the border illegally to join her cousin, Maria, in the United States. Things would be difficult, she knew, but the chance for an opportunity to be something more than a fruit farmer was too great to pass up.

Maria worked for a maid service, cleaning homes for rich people in America, and her company paid the workers under the table. It was the place where Consuela would start, too. But she didn't intend to make cleaning rich people's homes her life. In America, you could do anything, and Consuela would use this job as a stepping stone to something better. As soon as she figured out what that was going to be.

Her first week on the job, she joined Maria and another girl at the majestic home of the Walters family. Mrs. Walters had very particular instructions, and she wanted things done just so. The girls toured the lavish home with her, Consuela making mental notes on the woman's instructions, while Maria wrote them on a notepad.

When they returned to the foyer, Mrs. Walters made them go over the instructions in detail. While Maria read from her notepad, and Chica mumbled half-remembered bits of the instructions, Consuela received a smile and a raised eyebrow from Mrs. Walters when she recited the instructions from memory.

"You'll do," Mrs. Walters said before she left them to the job.

Cleaning the huge home took the three of them several hours, but Consuela knew the pay would be good. However, as they were packing up to leave, Mrs. Walters made an appearance once again.

"Consuela," she said and beckoned Consuela to one side of the room.

"Yes, Mrs?"

Mrs. Walters looked her over from head to toe and back up before she said, "I have an offer for you."

"Yes, Mrs?"

"I've wanted to hire a live-in maid for some time."

Consuela cocked her head.

Mrs. Walters continued, "You're sharp, with a good memory, and your work was more detailed than the other two. I'd like to offer you a position as our housekeeper."

"Live-in?" Consuela asked.

Mrs. Walters nodded. "You'd have your own room here in the house. We board you, and you'll receive $1,500 per week for your services. I can go over the details of what I expect, should you decide to take the offer."

Consuela didn't know what to say. It was more money than she'd ever had in her life, and on top of it, she'd live in the lavish home and be able to learn from wealthy Americans. It was an opportunity she couldn't pass up.

"Yes, Ma'am," she said. "I think I'd like that."

Mrs. Walters smiled and laid a hand on her shoulder. She idly rubbed a lock of Consuela's raven hair between her fingers as she said, "That's an excellent choice. You'll be a lovely addition here."

***

Keith

Staying with wealthy strangers was a bit of an uncomfortable proposition, and it was made more difficult due to the rift it caused between Consuela and her cousin. Maria had never been offered an opportunity such as this, and her jealousy over Consuela's good fortune culminated in brash words and finger-wagging. Consuela, though, wasn't deterred by her cousin's attitude. A rich American family was sure to offer a greater chance of successful connections than working for a cleaning company.

Consuela moved into the big home the following day, where Mrs. Walters toured the mansion with her and laid out her expectations.

"Bedrooms and bathrooms are to be kept spotless," Mrs. Walters instructed. "The family dining area, as well as the ballroom are a priority. Mr. Walters hosts important guests from his company, and our son, Keith, likes to have friends over for get-togethers. I'll introduce you when he gets home."

"Yes, Mrs." Consuela answered.

The tour of the home took some time, with Mrs. Walters remarking on which rooms were the most important, and which could be left for only a cursory cleaning. It was as they descended the steps to the basement floor that things took a strange turn. The Walters' basement was expansive, in keeping with the rest of the home. It included a full movie theater, which was a priority room, and a full-equipped home gym.

What Consuela found strange was the room at the east end of the basement, sealed behind a large metal door.

"This is Mr. Walters' workroom," Mrs. Walters explained. "You'll pretend as if it doesn't exist. It's not somewhere you'll ever clean. Mr. Walters does important research for his company, and much of that isn't public information. Trade secrets, you know."

"Yes, Mrs." Consuela said with a glance at the door.

When the two of them returned to the first floor, they were met by a gangly young man, whose arms seemed a bit too long, and legs a bit too short. He tottered more than walked, and a mop of unruly sandy hair hung over one bespectacled eye.

"Keith," Mrs. Walters called to the young man. "Come and meet our new housekeeper. This is Consuela."

Keith meandered through the central living room, bumping a side table and setting a lamp rocking precariously in his course. By the time he reached the two women, Consuela blushed at the sight of his obvious erection tenting his greasy sweatpants.

"Hey," he said and pushed the stray hair from his eye.

It was a useless gesture, likely more of a habitual one, as the hair immediately fell back over his eye.

"Consuela will be in to clean up your room each morning," Mrs. Walters said. "Do try to make her job an easy one."

"Uh, yeah," Keith mumbled. "Yeah, sure."

"And put on some clothes that aren't greasy," Mrs. Walters said with a frown. "What have you been doing?"

Keith shrugged and said, "Working with Johnny on his shit ride—"

Mrs. Walters frown deepened, and Keith corrected, "Er — his project car. That old Impala."

"Well, clean up," his mother snapped, then turned to Consuela and asked, "You know about laundry?"

Consuela nodded. She did know about laundry. "Yes, Mrs."

"Come along. I'll show you to your room."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Keith," Consuela said.

"Um, yeah. You, too."

When the two women had left Keith behind and started up the curving staircase to the second story, Mrs. Walters said, "You'll have to forgive my son. He's a bit awkward around the ladies."

"Yes, Mrs."

"And you don't need to be so demure. You're part of the family now. I don't want you acting like a complete servant."

"Yes, Mrs. Walters," Consuela said.

When they arrived at the guest bedroom Consuela would stay in, Mrs. Walters opened the French doors on a room that was nearly as large as Consuela's entire home in Mexico. A huge four-poster bed took up one corner of the room, which also included an en-suite bathroom and sitting area. The sitting area comprised two small leather chairs around a little table, which was topped with a tea set.

"This is… It's beautiful, Mrs. Walters."

"The chef serves dinner each evening at six-o'clock," Mrs. Walters said. "You'll dine with us, of course. Following meals, your only task will be the washing up."

"Yes, Mrs. Walters."

"And you'll find your uniforms in the closet," Mrs. Walters said, indicating a walk-in closet. "I do expect you to be in uniform each morning until after the evening meal."

Consuela nodded.

"Well, I'll leave you to it. If you need anything, any of the wall panels will connect you to my phone by pressing the number three. One is for Mr. Walters, and two is for Keith. Four, if you need to speak to the chef, but he's only here morning and evening."

Mrs. Walters shut the doors as she left, leaving Consuela to explore her quarters. Everything was already neat and spotless, even the bathroom. In the closet, Consuela found her uniforms. These made her cringe. Each of them was a variation on a classic French maid's outfit, though she felt that the skirts were far too short and the tops much too low-cut. Still, the money was good, and the opportunity wasn't one she was going to pass up over some slightly embarrassing clothes.

That evening, Consuela joined the Walters family in the dining room, where she met Mr. Walters for the first time. The man was broad and tall, like a giant, and he wore large glasses that slid down his hooked nose. His hair, what remained of it, was white around his temples, but he was bald on top.

He had little to say to his family or Consuela, but both father and son gawked at her in the maid's uniform throughout dinner. Consuela shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, which Mrs. Walters didn't seem to notice (or didn't care about), and she blushed when Keith stood to excuse himself. Once again, his prominent erection tented his sweatpants, which were a new clean pair.

Following dinner, Consuela wordlessly cleared away the dishes and washed them, then made sure the dining area was cleaned and the table polished before retiring to her room. It was difficult getting to sleep in a strange room, in a strange home, with a strange family, but eventually she managed.

***

The Proposition

The task of keeping the Walters' home cleaned was a daunting one. Consuela began by making an organized plan that would prioritize the most-used areas at the start of each day. That included areas such as the kitchen and dining areas, as well as the bedrooms and bathrooms. With those tasks completed, she spent the rest of the day on the smaller rooms or unused areas, keeping them tidy and free of dust.

The laundry was another priority, and one that required some work. The laundry room was located in the basement, meaning that Consuela had to collect the day's laundry from the master bedroom and Keith's room, then haul it down to the basement. The Walters couple kept two hampers, one for Mr. Walters and the other for his wife. In Keith's room, some of the clothes made it into the hamper, while others were strewn about the floor.

Keeping Keith's room, she realized on her first visit, wasn't going to be an easy task. The young man was as untidy as she felt it was possible for a person to be. His bedsheets were twisted and sweaty, and the floor was strewn with candy wrappers, half-eaten bags of chips, various bits of broken electronic things, and hastily removed pairs of shoes.

On the walls hung posters that she found disgusting. The first was a Latina woman laying on her back, nude, with her legs spread open. She jammed an oversized sex toy into her pussy, and had a look of bliss on her face. On her breasts were a pair of nipple clamps, one of which she tugged on with her free hand.

Another was a blonde woman with breasts so large they had to be fake. Her skin was weathered and badly tanned, and smeared all over her face was semen. There was so much of the stuff coating her features that she was barely recognizable as human beneath the cake of so much jizz. The gooey mess ran down her enhanced melons, and her tongue hung out of her mouth, her eyes crossed, and a long trail of drool dripped from her lolling tongue.

The third, which hung above Keith's gigantic computer desk, was of another blonde. Like the first, she had massive breasts, which she cupped in her hands. She stared vapidly into the camera with her tongue out and spit coating her chin and breasts. She sat on two sex toys, one of which was lodged in her pussy, and the other up her ass. A colorful spiral had replaced each of her eyes. Across the poster were the words, "Break my stupid brain," in rainbow letters.

"You like it?" Keith's voice came from behind her and Consuela started. "Sorry," he said when she rounded in surprise, holding a pair of his soiled boxers.

Keith held a half-eaten bagel in one hand and scratched his balls through his sweatpants with the other.

"I… was just collecting your laundry, Mr. Keith," Consuela said. "I can come back."

Keith shrugged and said, "Nah. You can do your thing. I'm just gonna get on the computer a while."

Consuela cringed inwardly, but she nodded and worked to collect the rest of his clothes from the floor as quickly as possible. Keith, meanwhile, sat in his computer chair and turned on the monitor. A quick glance showed that his expansive desktop was wallpapered with yet another disgusting image of a naked woman. This one was surrounded by a group of naked men. One of them had the woman's face pressed into his crotch, his penis in her throat, as tears streamed down her cheeks. In each of her hands was another penis. She also sat on another man, who clearly had his penis up her ass, while yet another was balls-deep in her pussy.

Keith ignored Consuela and started up his browser, which unsurprisingly, opened on a porn site. Consuela increased her pace and gathered the rest of his clothes, shoving them into his hamper. She quickly fled the room, but not before the sounds of dirty fucking blared from Keith's surround sound speakers.

Even when she closed the door, she could still hear the sound of it as she fled down the hallway.

"Oh, God! Pump my asshole, Master! I'm your whore!"

***

Consuela was feeling a bit uncertain about her choice as she descended to the basement with Keith's hamper. The young man was a pig in every way. He was dirty, clearly a misogynist, and a spoiled rich boy. He couldn't have been much older than Consuela herself, but he seemed to have the mindset of a boy half his age.

Still, the money was good and the opportunities here couldn't be easily dismissed. She could, she supposed, just alter her routine to go into Keith's room only when she knew he'd be gone. Yes, she'd have to look at the gross posters, but she could actively work to avoid the gross boy himself as much as possible.

It was when she'd finished starting the laundry and she was on her way back up to the first floor, that the door to workroom opened. Mr. Walters emerged from inside and the door boomed shut behind him. For a moment, Consuela and he stared at other from opposite ends of the hallway. Then, Mr. Walters smiled and waved as he started for the stairs.

Consuela relaxed, smoothed her skirt, and followed him up. At the top of the steps, he was waiting for her. The big man towered over her, making her feel as child-like as she considered Keith to be. But his eyes behind the glasses were relaxed and his smile was a welcoming one.

"Consuela," he said in a voice that belied his size. "How are you settling in?"

"Well, Mr. Walters."

"Dick," he said and Consuela blushed. "You can call me Dick. No need to be so formal."

Consuela nodded, unable to actually voice the word. Mr. Walters gestured ahead, indicating that she should join him as he walked.

"My wife tells me she's paying you $1,500 a week to keep the house. Is that right?"

Consuela nodded and said, "It's very generous of you, Sir."

"Dick."

"Mr. Dick," Consuela corrected, and then felt stupid at how it sounded.

Dick, though, barked a laugh and said, "Sure. That'll do. Mr. Dick. So, yes. She thinks you're worth it and I let her make those decisions. I do have something of a… proposition for you, however."

He stopped in the central living room and turned to look out the big picture window.

"I'd like to increase your pay to $5,000 weekly," he said and turned back toward her.

Consuela had a bad feeling about it. Rich American men who gave girls money like that, usually had something gross in mind. She might be a foreigner, but she did know that much.

"Oh!" he blurted. "Oh, no! I didn't mean — I'm sorry. This is about my son. Keith is… a bit awkward when it comes to women."

Consuela remained silent. Awkward was an understatement.

Mr. Walters continued, "I'm willing to pay you well to… tutor him a bit in how to act properly. How to talk to a woman, hold a conversation, approach someone like a gentleman. Those kinds of things."

Consuela was still silent, inwardly horrified at the thought of spending time around Keith.

"I understand if you don't want to," Mr. Walters said. "And I don't want you to feel as though it's an expectation. Whatever you decide, I won't hold it against you at all."

"May I… have some time to think about it, Mr. Dick? It's only my first day."

Mr. Walters slapped his forehead, chuckled, and said, "Of course. Of course. So sorry, dear. Just a father's worry, is all. I'll leave you to it. Keep up the good work."

He strode back through the room, down the hall, and presumably made his way back to the workroom. Consuela returned to her duties, starting with tidying up the master bedroom and bath. As she worked, she considered the money. It was an outrageous sum.

Since she didn't need to pay for room and board, she would be able to not only put money away, but send some home to her parents. It was a tempting offer, really. The only hitch was Keith. After what she'd seen of him this morning, the thought of being near him was enough to make her stomach turn.

She considered, though, if she were to tutor him and teach him how to be a gentleman toward women, wouldn't that be a good thing? Could she have some influence on him that might result in a positive outcome? And how grateful would the Walters be if she was successful.

By the time she'd finished with the couple's bathroom, she heard Keith's door open, shut again, and when she peeked from the bedroom door, she spotted him heading toward the stairs. She waited a few minutes to be sure he was gone, then returned to his room to clean it up. This chore, however, was not as easy as his parent's room. Not at all.

Consuela ended up needing a garbage bag to pull the trash out from under his bed, and another for the copious unwashed socks and underwear stuffed beneath the bed, as well. The crunchy socks made her stomach heave with the knowledge of what Keith had done with them.

As she worked, she hummed along to the music that Keith had left playing on the surround sound system. It was low, and it wasn't something she'd heard before. Still, it was catchy and relaxing, and when she finally felt she'd done a fair job of getting the room in order, the music stuck with her for the rest of the day. In fact, she couldn't get it out of her head.

***

The Sound of Love

The infectious song stayed with Consuela through dinner that evening. When Keith excused himself from the table, Consuela moved to begin clearing his dishes away. Mrs. Walters stopped her and said, "Have a seat, honey."

Consuela sat and folded her hands, sure that her hesitation of accepting the offer was going to get her fired.

"Dick told me that he made you an offer this morning. To help our son."

"Yes, Mrs."

"Truth be told, I'm a little worried about him. He's the only child we have, and he's really shown no motivation to date. It's important to us that he carries on our family name. I know family is very important where you come from, too."

"Yes, Mrs."

Mrs. Walters nodded and continued, "Of course, we'd never make this a condition of your employment. It would just be… helpful. For our family."

Consuela looked down at the table.

"Give it some thought, dear," Mr. Walters said. "No pressure."

Consuela nodded and said, "I'll do the washing up now."

"Certainly," said Mrs. Walters.

As Consuela worked, the song played in her head, over and over. And the image of Keith sitting in the chair, watching porno and masturbating stuck with her, too. Even as she readied for bed, removing the maid uniform, and crawling under the sheets, she couldn't dispel the image of the awkward young man stroking his erection.

***

The following morning, Consuela was aghast at how Keith had managed to once more destroy his room. She let herself in while he was showering, just to have a look at the place. Once more, empty soda cans littered the floor. Two sweatshirts, two pairs of sweatpants, and balled up t-shirts hung carelessly from a chair or were tossed into the corners. The computer desk was covered in candy wrappers, and bits of potato chips littered the desktop.

Frozen on the monitor was an image of a Latina woman in a maid's uniform, much like Consuela's own. The woman stared back at her from the monitor, a brainless, entranced look on her face, as a strand of drool hung from her open mouth. That odd, lovely song played from the speakers. The background of the image, however, was not static. It swirled hypnotically and Consuela paused in picking up a soda can to stare at it.

A hand on her shoulder snapped her around and when she turned, she was face-to-face with Keith. She blinked and brought her hand to her mouth, realizing that she'd been drooling on her tits. How long had she been standing here, looking at the dirty picture?

"You okay there, babe?" Keith asked and pushed that stray lock of hair from his eye.

Consuela blushed. The gesture was kind of adorable, actually. Why hadn't she noticed that before? Keith took his hand off his shoulder and adjusted the towel around his waist, drawing Consuela's eyes to his erection, which had parted the folds of the towel.

"I'm… I'm fine, Mr. Keith," Consuela muttered.

Why couldn't she stop looking at his cock? Keith's hand left her shoulder.

"You can go ahead and do your thing," he said as he brushed past her. "I'm just gonna do mine. You don't mind, do you?"

He sat in the chair and pulled the towel apart, revealing his nudity, and his hand wrapped around his cock.

"I… I shouldn't…" Consuela mumbled.

"It's your job, right? Keeping things clean?"

It was her job. She shook her head and said, "I'll come back… in a bit."

Holding her hand to her head, she stumbled from the room, away from the girl on the screen, away from the music. Once she shut the door, her head felt a bit clearer, but that song still stuck in it as she carried on with her work.

When Keith left his room and Consuela returned to clean it, the song was playing more loudly than before. The image on the screen showed the same maid, but now she was nude, on her knees, and there was an erect penis in her mouth. She cupped her tits in her hands as she stared up at the man, and his hand rested on her head. Like she was a pet.

She picked up the towel Keith had been sitting on and her fingers squished in something cool and gooey. A moan passed her lips as she realized what it was. Keith's cum. She rubbed her fingers in it again and brought them to her lips. Just as she opened her mouth, she realized what she was about to do and dropped the towel in horror.

"Oh! Dios mi!"

Leaving the room uncleaned, she fled into the bathroom and washed the goo off her fingers. How disgusting! How could she have been about to lick Keith's cold semen?

As she carried on with her work, Consuela took the day's laundry down to the basement. After starting the load, she encountered Mr. Walters once again, this time opening the door at the end of the hall. He waved to her. Consuela waved back. Mr. Walters beckoned her toward him.

"Yes, Mr. Dick?" she said as she approached.

"I wanted to apologize," Mr. Walters said. "For springing that ghastly question on you yesterday. Your job isn't to be concerned for Keith. That's our job as his parents. I'm just… I'm sorry."

"It is alright, Mr. Dick," Consuela said.

"Still, I want to make it up to you. I have this new MP3 player," he said and stepped beyond the door.

Consuela couldn't help but peer inside. The mystery of what was behind the door was too enticing. While she couldn't tell what any of it was for, the room was filled with banks of electronics, monitors, and weird liquids in glass beakers. Mr. Walters picked up a white device from one of the tables and brought it back.

"It might pass the time to have something to listen to while you work," he said and handed it to Consuela. "I don't know your particular tastes, but I did look up the greatest pop hits from Mexico in the last decade and downloaded them all for you."

Consuela was touched. A little sound of home would actually make the days easier. And maybe it would get the damn song out of her head.

"Gracias, Mr. Dick," she said. "Thank you."

Dick beamed. "You just forget all about this business with Keith. Thanks for all your help."

Consuela started back up the steps as Mr. Walters shut the door to his workroom. She pushed the earbuds into her ears as she walked and flicked on the MP3 player. Immediately, familiar sounds filled her ears, putting an extra pep in her step as she continued her routine.

While she worked, however, forgetting about the business with Keith wasn't easy. In fact, it seemed to be all she could think about. She returned to his room, this time determined to get the job done.

So she couldn't be distracted, she turned off the monitor with the dirty picture on it and got to work. The music played in her ears and she sang along quietly with it as she picked up the clothes and the trash. But all the while, she couldn't dispel the image of Keith's erect penis.

It was as she was finishing up, scrubbing the floor of Keith's bathroom around the toilet, that she looked up. And there, inches away, was Keith's erection. He stood nude right in front of her, his hand on the handle of the shower, starting the water and paying her no mind.

Her mouth hung open in shock as she sat up on her knees. Keith looked down on her as if noticing her for the first time and said, "Oh, don't mind me. Just gonna shower up again."

Consuela stared at his cock, the music blaring in her ears. She had no idea what he'd said. Seemingly paralyzed, she could only sit on her knees and look at his cock.

Keith tested the water with his hand, then stepped into the shower, leaving the sliding glass door open. He said something but Consuela couldn't hear it over the music. She fumbled one earbud from her ear and asked, "What?"

"I said," Keith repeated, "you can step in and help me wash."

"I…"

"It's your job, right? To clean? I need cleaning."

Consuela shook her head. It didn't seem right, but it also did. It was her job. She was here to clean. Keith needed cleaning. Keith was a very dirty boy.

"I… shouldn't…" she mumbled and put a shaking hand to her forehead.

It was so hot. Keith held out a bar of soap to her and cocked his head. Consuela reached out a trembling hand and took the soap. It was gooey. Like Keith's cum on the towel. She shivered.

"Clean," Kieth said again.

Consuela, still clothed in her uniform, took a step into the shower with him. The hot water pelted her skin as she put the bar of slippery soap against Keith's skinny chest. She rubbed it up and down, lathering his body as he stood there, staring down at her tits.

She lathered him lower, lower, until a film of the soap coated his erection. Then she lightly ran the bar of soap along its length. Keith groaned. Consuela wrapped her fingers around his cock and worked the soapy mix into it, gently jerking him back and forth.

"That's it," Keith said. "Clean me."

"Yes, Mr. Keith," Consuela whispered.

His cock was so hot, so hard in her hand, pulsing with the need to cum again. Keith's breathing became more ragged, faster, as Consuela stroked his soapy cock back and forth. A few more strokes and he jerked, moaned, and coated her hand in his jizz.

"Oh, fuck," Keith muttered. "Oh, shit. That's it. Clean it!'

Consuela's head pounded with the sound of the music, the feel of Keith's cock in her hand, the warm coating of cum on her skin. This was her job. She was here to clean. This was her duty.

Keith finally stopped cumming and reached down to remove her hand from his cock.

"You did a great job," he said. "You can clean me again after dinner."

Consuela nodded, her face hot and skin tingling. She stumbled from the shower, picked up her MP3 player, and hurried from the room, streaming water across the carpet.

***

After Dinner Special

Consuela sat at the dinner table with the Walters family, staring at her plate and poking the food with a fork. She couldn't bring herself to eat. She couldn't, in fact, get the image of Keith's cock out of her mind. The feel of it, the wash of warm jizz over her hand, stuck in her head like Keith's cum stuck to the towel.

"Everything alright, Consuela?" Mrs. Walters said.

"Hm? Oh, yes, Mrs." Consuela said. "Just a bit tired."

"It's a big house," Mr. Walters said. "I know I'd be tired after a couple days cleaning everything."

"Cleaning can be such hard work," Mrs. Walters agreed. "But it never seems to end, does it?"

Consuela shook her head. It didn't seem to end, but it was her job. She was here to clean. Clean anything dirty. Even Keith, who was a very dirty boy.

"Keith, why don't you help Consuela upstairs after she's finished cleaning everything down here?" Mrs. Walters suggested.

Keith stood from the table and said, "Yeah. Let's get things cleaned up."

Consuela looked up from her plate as Keith ambled down the table. He stood next to her place, his erection once more bulging from the front of his sweatpants. Consuela stared at it and licked her lips.

"Just a little more cleaning to do," Keith said and stroked his erection.

Mr. and Mrs. Walters sat back in their chairs and grinned.

"Cleaning is your job, right?" Keith said.

Consuela nodded and stared at his erection. Keith untied the knot on his sweatpants and let them fall, freeing his cock. Consuela groaned as the fat head of it hit her bottom lip.

"Let's just clean up and I'll take you upstairs," he said and placed his hand on her head.

Consuela's head pulsed with the sound of the music as Keith placed his cock on her lips. He gave it a gentle push and Consuela's wet lips parted around the crown. She stared up at him in wonder as he pushed his hair out of his eye, and her pussy practically gushed as he did it. It was so adorable!

Keith pushed his dick further into her mouth and said, "Clean."

Consuela opened her mouth to accept more of his cock.

"That's so good, dear," Mr. Walters said. "Fine job."

"Clean it good, Consuela," Mrs. Walters said.

Keith groaned and pushed the next few inches into her mouth, then rocked his hips back and forth, gently fucking his prick in and out. His hand tightened in her hair, and he used her head to masturbate as his parents looked on with pride.

"When you finish cleaning me up," Keith said, "I'll take you upstairs and help you clean out that warm cunt of yours. How does that sound?"

Consuela moaned around his cock. That did sound nice. Keith's cock felt nice. Having him clean her cunt out with it would feel so nice.

Mr. and Mrs. Walters sipped their wine as their son began to roughly fuck their maid's face. Consuela gagged and sputtered as Keith became rougher, stuffing his entire length into her throat. Each hard thrust of his cock caused spittle to eject from her lips, where it ran down her chin and into her cleavage. But that was her job. She was here to clean.

"I think that's a fine job," Keith said at last and pulled his prick from her mouth.

He wiped the gooey mess across her lips and pulled her up from her chair by her hair, making Consuela squeal.

"Let's go to bed," Keith ordered. "I put on some real romantic music for you, and we'll make sure everything gets clean up there."

"You two have a good time," Mr. Walters said.

"Don't miss anything now, Consuela," Mrs. Walters added.

"No, Mrs." Consuela said.

Keith dragged her along painfully, his fist wrapped in her hair, and she stumbled up the stairs in her heels. Despite her earlier efforts, Keith's room was once more a disaster, but right now there were more important things to clean.

The music blared from the speakers, and on the screen was the Latina maid, this time with her legs spread and a blissful look on her face as the mystery man pounded his cock into her cunt.

Keith pushed Consuela over his bed and tore down her panties, not bothering to remove her uniform. Her cunt was soaking wet, though, when he pushed his cock into it and began to bang away at her like a lifeless sex doll. Consuela was anything but lifeless, however.

Her young master's prick felt like coming home. It battered her insides with long, deep strokes, while the young man grunted and pulled her hair. Each slap of his balls against her was as hypnotic as the strange music.

"Ah, fuck, that's some good cunt," Keith said. "You're gonna be a great breeding hole, slut. We're gonna make sure the family name gets carried on, aren't we?"

"Yes, Master Keith," Consuela said between slams of his cock into her.

"I can… just imagine… the fine… slutty ass we're gonna… breed from you…" Keith said as he plugged her cunt. "Just think of it, slut. All those… hot little… future sluts you're… gonna pop out for me…"

Consuela couldn't really imagine it. The only thing she could imagine was laying under Keith and having his prick pumping her night after night, then waking up to clean the house. It seemed like such a good life, a worthy life, the life she'd always dreamed of. This was just the sort of opportunity she'd been waiting for.

No longer would she have an uncertain future, filled with hard work. No. She was here to clean. To clean anything that was dirty. Keith was a very dirty boy, and the house was so large and always needed cleaning. That was all she needed.

Keith yanked her hair back and grunted, shoving his whole cock into her warm depths.

"Aw, fuck! That's it, slut. That's it!"

Consuela moaned as his warm jizz plastered her insides, coating her womb in the semen that would no doubt impregnate her with the future Walters brood. And if it didn't take tonight, she was certain Keith would keep on trying until it happened.

Keith pulled his wet prick out of her and rolled Consuela onto her back. From is dresser, he took a length of cord, which he wrapped around her legs. The other end he tied to her wrists, pulling the whole affair tight, so she was folded nearly in half.

"So we can keep that spooge inside you," Keith explained, though she hadn't asked. "I just need a little nap to get the old Johnson back in action, then we'll go again."

And with those words, he quickly fell asleep, leaving Consuela bound, her legs bent back uncomfortably, awaiting his next insemination. Despite the discomfort, though, she found solace in the music. And the happy tune filled her head with thoughts of service, of cleaning, and being Keith's obedient breeding bitch.