The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

How To Pay Your College Loans

Chapter 10: Pretty, Pretty Service Maid

* * *

Anne becomes the new head maid, and decides Clara can put her time to better use.

* * *

Disclaimer: This story is intended for adults 18+. If you happen to be underage while accessing this story, please refrain from reading it. All characters in this story are of legal age. This story is a work of fantasy; in reality, nonconsensual sex and hypnosis are deeply immoral and illegal, and this story does not constitute support or approval of such acts. Please do not repost without explicit permission.

* * *

Diana had been taught to conduct herself gently and quietly. She was taught never to interrupt others, never to slam her feet around in movement, and never to make any sound that would startle or bother others. They were arduous lessons, as Diana was used to being much louder and more demanding, but she eventually got the hang of it. As a pleasant side effect, the playthings she—and Jasmine—owned could never tell when Diana was approaching or where she was coming from.

Diana knew it was uncouth of her, but she loved to eavesdrop. She loved listening to their little conversations, observing the adorable friendships they’d make. It made things so much more fun to see how the members of her harem interacted with each other. Kae and Felicity weren’t exactly fond of each other, so making them fuck each other always gave Diana a special rush. Lisa, of course, hated Jasmine—Diana knew this all too well. Every time she’d hear Lisa bad-mouth Jasmine, her loyal, loving wife, Diana would tip off Jasmine. Only a few hours later, she could hear the sounds of Lisa’s punishment coming from the basement.

And then there was Clara… When Clara had first come to the mansion, she had seemed so smart, so willing, so capable. She had earned advanced degrees in biology, graduated at the top of her class, and tutored students in her free time. Now, she was nothing but a ditzy, dumb, brainless princess. Clara could barely even put two and two together—Diana had seen her fail to count higher than three. Diana couldn’t help but lightly giggle as she thought about it. That was one of the many small things that made the princess Diana’s favorite. She so willingly gave over her vast intelligence, as if it were no more valuable than a one dollar bill. She was so eager to please, and way, way too naive. She just wanted to make her ownershappy. It was so… adorable. Diana just loved being around Clara, especially as she got to pass her royal teachings onto her.

Diana almost never got attached to her properties. She wasn’t that kind of person. She was much more reserved and private than she seemed. Only Jasmine really knew her secrets.

Most of them, at any rate.

Diana was just about heading to her bedroom, having gotten in her steps for the day. Even walking around the mansion a few times was enough to get 7,500 steps in. Jasmine had always lectured her on how 10,000 steps was the ideal, but she couldn’t blame her queen partner for not wanting to walk quite that far in heels. Jasmine, herself, usually only wore flats.

She was just about done… She just wanted to pass by Natalie and Angel’s room briefly to hear what they were up to. It was a long trip they’d been sent on, but they had some trouble finding the piece of art that Diana had her heart set on. Fortunately, they came back—many people in their shoes wouldn’t have. She was excited to see them, though. Transforming a girl into a maid, and another into a bunny… those were both her ideas.

Diana leaned her head into the door quietly, so as not to alarm anyone. She took a silent inhale, beginning to listen.

And then her heart sank as she did.

“I can’t believe that’s who Diana really is,” Natalie murmured. It was enough for Diana to realize they had learned something they shouldn’t have.

“Yeah, mhmm,” Angel agreed. “Like, I get why she kept it a secret from us, but… don’t you think the others should know?”

Diana’s eyes widened. Her face paled as her heart pounded.

“Mm…” Natalie contemplated. “I’m not sure. I mean, it’d start something it shouldn’t. I’m not up for being involved in some kind of uprising. I’m kinda starting to like my life here, y’know? Feels good to boss people around—and to be bossed around by two hotties myself.”

Angel giggled. “Yeah, that’s, like, so totally true. But don’t you think it’d be fun? Besides, they have, um… a right? Yeah, like, to know!”

Diana inhaled. She didn’t want to get rid of them. She loved them—not as much as Jasmine, obviously, but she did hold a fond spot for every one of the properties in her mansion. She had picked them out, after all, and helped pick out their new identities. But… Diana didn’t want trouble to start. It was still the middle of the night. If she waited even a second longer, then it was going to spill. She couldn’t have that. Hell, Jasmine wouldn’t want that, either.

She swung the door open without even knocking. Diana took an inch of pride as she watched Natalie and Angel’s faces drain with horror. “A right to know what?” Diana spoke intensely. “I see you’ve learned something about me. Care to share?”

“D-Diana, My Queen,” Natalie exhaled, using the honorific to try to placate her owner. “T-this isn’t what it—”

“What. Did. You. Learn?” Diana demanded.

Angel and Natalie looked between each other, then downwards, neither one saying a word.

“Tell me!” Diana shouted.

Still nothing. They looked far too nervous, far too panicky. Diana was getting sick of this. She clenched her fists.

“If neither of you are going to tell me,” Diana inhaled, trying to hold back the tears, “then I think I know. You can start packing your bags, please.”

“W-wait!” Angel cried out. “N-no, don’t do this! I promise we—we won’t tell! Promise on my heart and—”

“That is an order!” Diana tried her hardest to keep her voice down. The trigger phrase worked, and Natalie and Angel obediently started gathering their belongings. Their bodies were obeying Diana’s orders, not their own wills to resist.

“My Queen,” Natalie gasped, trying to stop her body, and Diana. “Please, please listen to us. We’re begging you.”

Diana didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. She had them well under her control, and it would stay that way for as long as it needed to.

* * *

Diana hated watching this, but there was nothing else she could do. Within less than an hour, she was standing at the mansion’s front door with Natalie and Angel in front of her. A car was already parked, the driver ready to take them to a special place Diana and Jasmine had set up for “broken playthings”. It was far away, 20 miles or so, definitely far enough that they wouldn’t come running back. As they packed, Diana stuffed a few thousand dollars in each of their purses—just like it was spare change—so they wouldn’t come find her. She couldn’t risk them causing more problems.

And yet, Natalie and Angel were still begging, pleading, using every honorific in the book and showing off their changed personalities in an attempt to convince Diana to let them stay. But Diana’s face didn’t betray any of her anguish.

As Diana shuffled the two sobbing women into the car, Angel pleaded out, “Please, my Queen, don’t do this! We won’t tell anyone!”

She was right. They weren’t going to tell anyone. Diana leaned into both of them, getting both Angel and Natalie in earshot, and whispered—

“C’est fini.”

The ladies blinked. Their heads shook around wildly, trying to make sense of their surroundings. The shorter woman—who, until a few moments ago, had been called Angel—looked at Diana inquisitively. All of the protesting and crying faded from her eyes as she processed.

“Um…” Stephanie rubbed her temples, looking like she was having the headache to end all headaches. “Who… are you? Where are we?” From the looks of it, Natalie was having the same question, looking at her hands as if she had a completely new body.

“That doesn’t matter,” Diana stated, flatly. “Driver, take them away. Please.”

Diana watched their confused, perplexed faces as the driver closed the windows and sped off. She stood still, the pain finally sinking into her heart. She wanted to collapse and start crying, and without any more reason not to, that’s exactly what she started doing. Diana kneeled down on the steps to the mansion, the sobs coming hard and fast.

“We should go inside.” Diana’s teary face whipped around to see her wife standing there. Jasmine rested her hand reassuringly on Diana’s shoulder. Despite how cold and calculating she could act sometimes, Jasmine knew how to be comforting. She knew how to comfort Diana, specifically. “It’s going to get cold tonight. You look freezing.”

“I’m fine,” Diana half-heartedly protested. “I promise.”

“Even if you are,” Jasmine sighed, fixing her glasses, “I’d like to be with you. It sounds like it’s going to be a hard night for you.”

Diana choked, eventually relenting. She stood up, clutching onto Jasmine tightly. The way she clutched Jasmine put folds into her night garments, but neither of them cared. The usually-cruel businesslady petted Diana’s head softly, letting her get it all out.

“Did I do the right thing?” Diana asked softly.

Jasmine waited for a moment before she responded.

“That’s for you to decide. But I’ll always follow your direction, My Queen.”

* * *

“Natalie is gone, and Lisa is making a fine pet. We could use a head maid around here again.” Jasmine mused, keeping the swinging pendulum in front of Anne’s entranced eyes. “You are a highly respected professor. Or, at least, you were. You certainly know how to tell people what to do… right?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Anne spoke emotionlessly. Her eyes just followed the pendulum, her mind following Jasmine’s soothing voice. Despite how bratty and headstrong Anne used to be, she was making a fine trance slut. The more time Jasmine spent brainwashing her ex-partner, the more she was coming to enjoy toying with her mind like a stress ball.

Jasmine smirked. “Of course you do. I know you know how to order people around. The maids here… well, they’re not exactly my playthings, but they could use some guidance. Are you one for tidiness and house cleaning?”

Anne furrowed her eyebrows, trying her hardest to think. “Um… my apartment back home was… messy.”

Jasmine smirked even wider. “That’s okay. I can make a few adjustments.” The pendulum swung wider, making large circles. Anne’s eyes grew wearier as she tried her hardest to keep her eyes on the jewel. It was so gorgeous. Sparkling. Radiant. And so was Jasmine.

“All you need to do is think of how your mind looks right now. When you came here first, it was quite a mess, wasn’t it? You were argumentative, saying cruel and hurtful things to people—to me, your Mistress! You had no idea where you were going in life. And now, look at you. You’re becoming a lovely, obedient plaything. Like a delicate vase. My delicate vase. We’ve tidied up your mind. Don’t you think you can do the same for our mansion? To keep it tidy, clean, neat, ordered, just like your mind?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Jasmine couldn’t help but cackle lightly. “I thought so. Let’s make you my new maid then, shall we?”

“Mmmm…” Anne tried to stir, trying to think of some kind of protest. “I’m… not sure that’s for me…”

“Really?” Jasmine bit her lip. “What if I did this?”


“H…huh?” Anne blinked. It was quite hard to keep her eyes open for so long. She was so tired… so tired of resisting, so tired of the real world…

“And how about now?” Jasmine reiterated, her voice becoming more strict and demanding. “Anne, you do want to be my maid, don’t you?”

“Yes… Mistress…” Anne sighed. Now, the thought seemed much more appealing to her. Why? Or rather… why did she want to resist it in the first place? Being a maid was the perfect role for her. Jasmine was so… smart…

“Good,” Jasmine smirked. “Let’s get to work, then, shall we?” Anne nodded mindlessly. “You do see this dress in front of me. It’s a French maid dress—a fine latex one, at that. Put it on for me, will you? Make sure you make it, ah, a show for me, too.”

“Yes… Mistress…” Anne said as she stood up and complied with her new orders.

* * *

Clara hummed a gentle tune to herself as she finished dabbing her face with the bright, expensive blush. Normally, she’d do her makeup in her room, but Diana had recently suggested she try it out in the open as long as she’d clean up after herself—“you know, for everyone to enjoy watching as well”. Clara had felt embarrassed at first at the prospect of the others seeing her natural face, but soon enough, that hesitation washed over her, just as she’d been trained. She loved doing it, these days. It was an order, after all.

Finally, she finished for the day. Clara shook out her head, her neck aching from keeping it so stiff. Jasmine was out for the day, and Diana was once again unavailable. Clara didn’t actually know where Diana had gone. Diana would just disappear some days. She knew that Jasmine wasn’t bringing Diana to work, and that Diana wasn’t anywhere in the mansion. Wherever she was, Clara naively hoped she was okay.

Next on the list was high-heel walking practice. The other day, Diana had raised Clara’s heel height from 2 inches to 3 inches. Clara couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t struggling with it. Clara wasn’t smart enough to lie about that. In her past life, she never even touched heels—hell, she never even touched fancy flats. She wore sneakers every day and for every occasion. Jasmine had burned her old worn-down shoes long ago. All she had now were heels that were at least an inch tall.

Clara had to walk across the hallway and back five times a day, only stopping between each row. The first few times, she’d stop just to check on her sore feet—and got justly punished for it. Now, it was getting easier. Or at least, she thought.

“What are you doing?” a seething voice demanded. Clara whipped around to find Anne, her former professor, with an interrogating look on her face. She was surprised to see that Anne was now clad in a latex maid dress, similar to the one Natalie had worn, except blue. Anne’s long hair was also tied up in a neat ponytail with a navy scrunchie.

“Um, I’m…” Clara blinked. “I’m walking, Anne. Diana is teaching me how to, like, walk in heels.”

“Well, you should stop wasting time and finish!” Clara flinched, wondering what in the world was going on. Why was Anne dressed like that? Why was she being so demanding with Clara? Only Jasmine and Diana could do that! Only… wait… the cogs began to turn in Clara’s mind. Anne was… Natalie’s replacement?

“Um…” Clara tried to snap herself out of her confusion. “I-I’m sorry, Anne. I need to do this for Her Highness.”

Anne growled, tapping her foot impatiently. “You know very well you should have done the dishes before you started! I mean, why don’t you come look at the mess you made? And don’t try to blame it on another person—I know you’re the only one who makes scrambled eggs in the morning.”

“I, like, did the dishes though!” Clara protested. Wait. Did she? Or was her idiot brain lying to her again…?

Anne scoffed, and then burst into laughter. “Why don’t you come over and see, then?” Anne grabbed Clara’s arm and dragged her back into the kitchen, as Clara tried to follow while keeping her heels on. Sure enough, the dishes were stacked in the sink messily. Anne slapped the back of Clara’s ass, as if to scold her further. “Jasmine was right about you—you’re a complete bimbo. Unless you call this being done?”

Clara looked down apologetically. “No, Anne. It, um… doesn’t look done.”

“That’s Miss Anne, to you. And good princess—it’s reassuring that you can learn at least a little.”

Clara blinked, rubbing her temples. It hurt too much to think about what was going on. “I’m… I’m sorry, Miss Anne. It’s like, so hard to remember everything.”

“Maybe for a dumb princess, it is. Well, what are you waiting for? Go do the dishes, and then we’ll talk about your punishment.”

“Yes… Yes, Miss Anne.” Clara walked over to the sink and defeatedly started washing the dishes. The frying pan and dishes she used were quite large, and since they had been there for a few hours, some of the egg had stuck to them. Clara tried her hardest to wash them as quickly and harshly as possible—earning some more spanks from the new head maid in the process.

Finally, the dishes were done. Clara turned back to Anne, her eyes silently pleading. “T-thank you, Miss Anne,” she said shakily with a curtsy. “I… should go finish my steps now.” Just as Clara was about to go back to heels practice, Anne grabbed the back of her dress again.

“No you’re not. You can explain to Her Highness later. Right now, we need to set you straight…” Anne’s eyes narrowed at Clara as she turned the petite princess around. “So what we’re going to do is train you to be a maid, too. It won’t be fun, and I can guarantee that it won’t be easy, either.”

Clara whimpered. Why was Anne suddenly being so strict? So… cruel? Had Jasmine really gotten to her that much? What in the world was going on with her?

“So, how about we play a little game? We’re going to go around some rooms in the mansion, and we’re going to spend some time tidying them up. If I catch you neglecting your duties, or notice any mess you leave behind, I’m going to slap you around a few times. Sounds better than walking around in heels, hmm?”

“S-so…” Clara flushed, feeling her clit tingling at even the thought of the little ‘game’. “Does that mean I… I can, like, put on flats now?”

Anne laughed at her. “Of course, sure thing, yes! Idiot. Of course not. Anyways, we’re in the kitchen already, so why don’t we start here?”

“Huh?” Clara looked behind her. The kitchen looked tidy and clean, with everything put away—save for the dishes she just did. “But… it looks fine right now, doesn’t it?” She couldn’t see any mess, at the very least.

Anne narrowed her eyes, raising her hand in front of Clara. Clara flinched momentarily, surprised as Anne put her hand down. “I’ll give you that one. You don’t know the first thing about cleanliness yet. Just from a glance, I can see five things that need to be cleaned—and that’s without a close look. So, let’s start sweeping up all the grub on the floor, shall we?”

Clara murmured, “Yes, Miss Anne.” She was about to step under to start sweeping it with a paper towel, when Anne stopped her.

“One moment.” She reached into her bag and pulled out another elaborate latex maid outfit—this one bright pink and purple, perfect for a princess maid. “Take your clothes off and put this on.”

Clara flushed a deep shade of red. “R-right now? In front of you?”

“Yes, you moronic ditz, where else? Here and now!” Clara muttered another ‘yes, Miss Anne’ and stripped her clothes off. She took the maid outfit, quickly figuring out how to slip it on and adjusting it so it was nice and tidy on her body. The suit was comfortable, especially for a latex outfit, and the tightness showed off her chest quite nicely. Jasmine must have had it made in advance, considering how sparkly and shiny it was, as if it were custom-made for a ditzy princess. Clara pulled the dress down just a little. She looked down, realizing how cute she looked. In a moment, her uncertain frown was replaced with a wide, vapid grin.

“This is… like, wow, this is so totally cute,” Clara beamed.

“Yes, and you look quite adorable in it,” Anne smirked. “Anyways, time to clean! Get ready to spend quite a while on this. There’s a lot to do.”

“Okay, so…” Clara sighed, kneeling on the floor. She wasn’t aware just how little the skimpy dress did to hide her ass. “Just sweep everything off?”

“Yes. Everything.”

Clara blinked. “Okay…” She stood up, grabbed a paper towel and wet it under the sink. She kneeled back down, grateful the kitchen was so vast and gorgeous, and started gently dabbing the towel under the refrigerator. She felt a little embarrassed—after all, it was uncouth for a princess to be doing so much manual labor. That was for other people to do. Then again, Jasmine and Diana had taught her over and over not to get too comfortable having things done for her; she was a service submissive, after all. Her job was to serve and please others. That was the arrangement when she came to the mansion—or so, she thought. She couldn’t exactly remember. It probably wasn’t important.

Clara spent as long as she could sweeping everything off the floor and onto the damp paper towel. Her knees hurt a little while keeping in the position. She had been on her knees many times before, servicing Jasmine’s strap or Diana’s girlcock, and the position was never comfortable. Sometimes, Diana would show mercy and offer her a pillow, but sometimes, if Jasmine were punishing Clara, she’d make her kneel on hard rice.

Eventually, though, Clara got everything out, as far as she could see. She threw the paper towel in the garbage and looked at Anne’s indignant face triumphantly. “Done! So, what’s next?”


Clara blinked as her brain reeled. Why had Anne slapped her? She put a hand to her stinging chin tenderly, looking at Anne with wide eyes. “W-what, like, happened? Did I, like, do something wrong?”

“You call that clean? Princess! How have you ever functioned before? That’s not clean in the slightest! All you used was a bit of water, not even any soap or anything! You can still see some brown spots under the fridge. How about I show you how it’s actually done, plaything?” Anne pushed Clara’s body aside and got to work. Sure enough, Anne knew what she was doing. Clara couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Back when she was in college, she’d spent hours in Anne’s office, finishing up her studies. Clara, as a college student with actual brain cells, could barely find a place to put her paper and messenger bag. Anne was significantly more tidy, now. Had Jasmine brainwashed her to be like this?

“Anne… um, I mean, Miss Anne… what, like, happened to you?” Clara whimpered, trying to get a grip of herself. “You… weren’t always like this, right?”

Anne smirked, crossing her arms. “And, if I recall correctly, you weren’t always a dumb, ditzy princess. Were you?”

Clara moaned at the degradation, shaking her head into her hands.

“Of course you weren’t. But I like you better now. You don’t have to try as hard, you look much more put together—at least, appearances-wise—and you’re a lot cuter. So I suppose you like me more as I am now, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, Miss Anne,” Clara confessed, her voice still muffled in her hands. “S-so, um… which room is next?”

“Which room? More like which spot!” Anne scolded. “Let me go through each spot here for you, every mess you’ve left, and we can see just how ‘clean’ this place really is.” To punctuate her threat, Anne pulled out a rubber heart-shaped flogger from her pocket, slapping it against her palm. “And every single time you leave something even the slightest bit unclean, you can expect a nice punishment for it. You ready?”

Clara nodded, kneeled down, and got to work.

* * *

“Stop. Stop!” Anne ordered, jolting Clara out of her thoughts as they moved from the kitchen over to the living room. The living room was large, somehow much larger than the kitchen; it was more like an auditorium than anything else. Clara had just finished reassembling the largest sofa—or at least she thought she had. “You forgot to check under the pillows for crumbs! How many times do I have to tell you?!”

“I-I’m sorry, Miss Anne, I just didn’t see it there—” Clara tried to explain as Anne stormed up to her, intimidating her further.

“You may be a dumb idiot, but you still know how to use your eyes, don’t you?” Anne cooed as she had Clara face her, stroking her cheek gently. “You’ve been learning quite a lot today, but you still have quite a ways to go. And of course, I can’t keep doing this—”


“—all the time, now can I? My hand can only take so much slapping…”


“…especially when I need to do it more than once for good measure.”

Clara whimpered, rubbing both of her cheeks tenderly. Her face stung, having been slapped across it many times in the last half hour—either with Anne’s hand or with her flogger. Despite all the pain and humiliation, she still longed for more. Of course, just because she was horny to get beaten, that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try to obey as best as she could. Still, though, it was discouraging—as hard as Clara tried, it seemed that Anne would always find thousands of places she’d missed.

“I’m sorry, Miss Anne,” Clara murmured, trying to word her thoughts. Thinking was a herculean task in and of itself, but saying what she thought? Especially to her superiors? It seemed nigh impossible. “I just… I can’t see everything… I, like, can’t do it, I don’t think.”

“You’re right, you don’t think,” Anne mocked. “But you can help me clean. I can train you to be more perceptive, to maybe think with your eyes instead of your head.”

“You can do that?” Clara gasped, suddenly feeling much better. “Um… like, how, Miss Anne?”

“Simple,” Anne smirked. “With hypnosis.”

“Huuuuh?” Clara drawled out, tilting her head. “W-with hypnosis? Um… I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

Anne sighed, and then chuckled. She didn’t even need to verbally make fun of Clara for her to realize how stupid she sounded. “I’m going to take your brain, whatever part of it that associates with you being a horny slut, and I’m going to tie it to cleanliness. That way, every time you clean something to perfection, you’ll feel a little dumber, a little hornier. Don’t you like being dumb and horny, princess?”

“Yesss…” Clara moaned. Even thinking about what Anne was describing made her clit twitch. “I… please… I… I want that, Miss Anne…”

Anne grinned, lightly touching her finger to Clara’s forehead. “Silly princess. Did you think I was giving you a choice?”

Clara giggled, and shook her head.

“Correct answer.” Anne leaned into Clara’s ear and whispered, “Pink, pink, pink.” And in an instant, just like she’d been trained, Clara was gone. Her head drooped into Anne’s chest as her Miss began the induction.

“Now, princess, I’m going to take your mind for a bit. It’s going to be my little plaything, just like you. I’m not going to change too much. I’m just going to make a few small adjustments for the time we spend cleaning. Clean. That word sounds so nice to you, just like music to your ears. Slowly, you can feel your mind wrapping around the word. Clean, tidy, neat… all of it means the same thing to you.” Anne petted Clara’s head, pushing her further into her tits.

“Princesses love things to be neat. After all, you wouldn’t go into a princess’s room and find she’d been living like a slob, would you? No, of course not! She’d be rightfully punished by her superiors. Just like you’d be. So, instead of associating cleaning with boredom, tedium, or chores… you’re going to associate it with pleasure.” Anne’s hand moved downward, going between Clara’s thighs and clutching onto her cunt through her panties. Clara moaned incessantly, not even aware people could hear her.

“Every time you clean a spot, a room, or an area… you’ll just feel this massive wave of pleasure. You won’t cum—not unless you’re given permission, of course—but it will feel nice. And then, you’ll want to clean more. And more. And more. Until the entire house is clean. And when, and only when, your superiors are satisfied, you’ll be given a just reward. Doesn’t that sound fun… princess?”

Clara muttered out a “yes, Miss Anne,”—though it was hardly audible. Anne giggled at the effort, though.

“Of course it does,” Anne gently stroked Clara’s luscious, blonde, well-styled hair. “You’re so obedient. You’re even smarter than you seem—at the very least, you’re smart enough to obey and follow orders. But that’s all you need to know. Obeying and following orders. That’s what princesses like you do, and now you understand that princesses and maids aren’t that different. Isn’t that fascinating?”

Clara once again muttered an affirmative. She didn’t even know she was—she was far too deep in trance. “Good princess,” Anne praised. “On the count of five, you’re going to wake up, and as you clean everything to perfection, you’re going to feel more and more and more horny. One, two…”

Anne counted Clara up, snapping her fingers on five. Clara blinked a few times, reorienting to the room. She lightly slapped her cheeks to wake up some more. As she did, she looked around the room she and Anne were working on. And only then did she realize how unclean it looked.

“My goodness,” Clara gasped. “Um, Miss Anne? May I, um, have the cleaning sup… supplies again? This… this room really needs it.”

Anne smirked, handing Clara a few supplies. “You don’t even have to ask, princess—I was going to order you to anyway.”

Almost immediately, she got to work. She started at the couch she oh-so-negligently left untidy earlier. Clara swept off the molecular excess crumbs into a dustpan, putting them in a small trash can nearby. Then she started doing the same to the pieces and crumbles under the pillows, on top, and in between. It took much, much longer than her initial attempt, but that was a good thing; after all, she was putting so much more thought and care into it… and because of how horny she was quickly becoming.

As the couch approached spotlessness, Clara could feel her legs instinctively clenching together. She tried to hold her heat inside, becoming hyper-aware of how drenched her panties were becoming. And so, so quickly too—already, after tidying one spot, she was already brought to the edge. She wanted to cum right then and there; and had she been given permission to do so, she could have easily orgasmed, hands-free.

But she hadn’t been given permission. Anne watched Clara cockily, the way Clara squirmed and tried to hide her cute little moans. She knew what Clara wanted—after all, it was as obvious and bright as daylight. “Don’t worry, princess,” Anne teased. “In due time, you’ll get your orgasm.”

Clara’s eyes sparkled with hope, desperation, and wordless begging. She was brought back down to reality when Anne added, “You just have to help me clean this entire damn estate.”

Clara’s eyes widened again—this time in horror. “The… entire… um…”

Anne sighed. “Right—that word is too big for you. The entire house. Let’s get to work, shall we?”

* * *

Cleaning half of the entire mansion took the entire day—Anne quickly realized that they wouldn’t get to the entire place. Clara’s body was giving out by the afternoon, though thankfully Anne had decided to make her lunch to “thank her for being a good, obedient, tidy maid.” Clara could barely even sit down without noticing how wet and horny she was. Even the smooth, silky fabric of the couch she sat on teased her cunt lightly, and it felt maddening. Clara gasped as she sat down, struggling to keep her legs still as she ate her food.

Who knew that tidying half a mansion—while being edged repeatedly—could be so much hard work? Clara must have been edged hundreds of times, each time bringing her a little closer. Soon, all she could think about was cleaning and cumming. Cleaning and cumming. It was all on her mind. But Anne wouldn’t give her permission—that would be far too generous of her.

They saved Clara’s room for last. Only when Clara reentered it for the day did she realize how utterly disastrous it was. She couldn’t even believe she was ever living in this mess—and that Jasmine or Diana ever let her live as such! Maybe it was planned—maybe they asked Anne… or ordered her… to beat some sense into Clara. It would have made perfect sense, after all.

They were almost halfway done with the room. They were so close to being done—Clara could only think of how incredible her climax would be after they were done. Anne wasn’t about to let her take her mind off of cleaning, of course. Clara tried her hardest to refocus herself on the task at hand, a quite important task. But when her poor brain cells took a break from cleaning, all that remained on her mind was how hot and needy and horny she was. Her work was becoming quicker, less diligent. Anne, of course, immediately noticed and repeatedly set Clara straight with her flogger.

But Clara couldn’t help it. It didn’t help that every time a spot was immaculately clean, she would get another edge. A rush. Adrenaline and arousal rushing through her body. She couldn’t even keep track of how many times she’d been edged that day—after all, Clara couldn’t count past 20 on a good day. It took all of her efforts to not get on the bed and grind her cunt against the corner. She was so hot. So needy. So… so damn horny.

And then, after another scorching 30 minutes, they were done. Anne took a determined, close look at the room, and declared—“and look! We’re done!”

“Oh, g-gosh, great!” Clara gasped, trying to sound excited and trying even harder to hide her instinctive begging. She was essentially going to finish right then and there on the spot. But she couldn’t. She still didn’t have permission.

“Ah-ah,” Anne tutted her tongue. “Not yet. I haven’t allowed you to finish, have I? Needy horny princess.”

“B-but…” Clara whimpered in a pathetic protest.

“But, but,” Anne mocked. “But you want to, right? Why do you want to so badly? Do you think you deserve a reward—a treat?”

“Y…yeah,” Clara muttered. “I finished cleaning the entire, like, house, right? So I should get a reward! It was…” Clara couldn’t help herself. She collapsed on the bed and started grinding, uncaring of the cruel and mocking way Anne looked at her. “So… so much, like, hard work! Don’t you, um… think I-I should have this? Please? Please, Miss Anne?”

Anne sighed, moving over to the bed and sitting next to Clara. She almost mistook the look on her superior’s face for sympathy or compassion. Unfortunately for Clara, Anne’s face lifted into a devious smirk. Anne’s hands reached out to grab Clara’s waist, effortlessly turning her around her body. Soon enough, Clara was melting in Anne’s lap, her ass into Anne’s waist and her legs being spread in front of her. Anne pulled down Clara’s panties with shocking ease, the entire bottom portion being absolutely drenched. It was laughable, at least to Anne. Clara knew she was being laughed at, and that only made it hotter.

“Idiot princess… though I suppose I’ve made you just a tad smarter,” Anne teased as she began fingering her clit. It didn’t take long for Clara to be right over the edge again. “I didn’t give you permission to finish—I never even said I was going to—but here you are expecting something of me?”

“I’m… I’m sorry, Miss Anne,” Clara whimpered as her legs shivered with anticipation. “Please… please, let me cum, I can’t… I can’t think…”

Anne laughed harder, only fingering Clara faster. Clara could physically feel her brains melting out of her ears. “You’re saying that like that’s different from normal. Though, I suppose you are right—you did clean this entire mansion, and it was no easy feat. I suppose I should thank you.”

Clara was about to ask for clarification, but her body took over as Anne whispered in her ear, “give me your orgasm, maid.”

And Clara did. Her head was thrown back as her body shook and convulsed. Anne’s fingers continued doing the hard work, bringing Clara over to the edge, giving her not one, not two, but three orgasms one after another. Clara couldn’t think. All she knew was climax. All she knew was pleasure, cleanliness, obedience. She gasped and moaned, and Anne used the opportunity to stick her fingers in Clara’s mouth. Clara obediently sucked on them—after all, even while she was shaking and shivering like she was being demonically possessed, she still knew obedience.

And then she stopped. Slowly, over the course of 30 seconds, her third climax came to an end. Anne took her fingers out of Clara’s mouth, using her now-free hand to stroke Clara’s chin.

“Good, good princess maid,” Anne cooed. “Now, I think some relaxation is in order? Aftercare, or what they may call it.”

Clara purred in agreement—that sounded like a fantastic idea.

“Actually… I have an idea,” Anne piped up. “I can show you one last thing that you may enjoy.”

“Hmmm?” Clara looked up at Anne inquisitively. “What’s… that?”

Anne smiled gently. Any look of cruelty or bullying was washed off her face, replaced with compassion and empathy. “Baking cookies.”

* * *

Anne had thankfully allowed Clara to sit down for the majority of the baking session. After all, she had removed the suggestions from Clara’s mind, once again making her the ditzy princess she was meant to be. Anne showed Clara the basics in a very empathetic and kind manner, and after 35 minutes, the cookies were done to perfection. Clara never knew that Anne could make such great cookies, but they were some of the best that Clara had ever had.

While they ate the cookies together, they decompressed from the scene, talking it over. Clara mentioned how fun it was, though how taxing it was, and gently asked Anne to maybe ask her a few days in advance next time. Anne agreed, saying it would be lovely to have Clara’s help again at some point. After all, Clara only had a bit of her attention span left—if it could be all directed towards cleaning for a period of time, it’d make her quite the helpful asset, as it did today.

Anne let Clara keep the maid outfit—as a memory, and for future usage.

Anne offered to tidy up the kitchen once all the dishes were in the sink, and Clara gladly accepted. She took the rest of the cookies, promising not to eat them all in one sitting, though it was a promise she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to keep. They were just too good! Maybe she should have shared them with the rest of the harem.

Or… maybe with those two. Clara knew she shouldn’t disturb Jasmine or Diana without permission, but she figured, who would get mad at the offer of free fresh cookies? At least Diana had a sweet tooth; that much, Clara could understand. She grabbed the box of cookies and walked back up to Jasmine and Diana’s chambers. Her legs and knees were sore from all the cleaning, but she made it there anyway. Clara took a deep inhale, and knocked on the door. After a few seconds, Diana opened the door with an inquisitive look on her face.

“Yes?” she asked slowly. “Can I help you?”

“Um, I, um,” Clara looked down. She suddenly felt much more bashful. “I… was working with Anne, and I made you two some cookies.”

Diana’s face looked even more confused and bewildered. “You… made us cookies?”

“Well, we made them for ourselves, but… I wanted to give the leftovers to you!” Clara spoke with a dumb dopey grin.

Diana continued to stare at Clara, trying to understand. Her face looked either utterly baffled or oddly grateful.

“Thank… you,” she spoke questioningly. She tenderly took the tray of cookies and briefly examined them. “Excuse me one moment. Don’t leave.”

Diana retreated into the room, shutting the door behind them. Clara waited for what seemed like an eternity, only being able to hear the muffled voices of Jasmine and Diana asking each other questions. After a moment of silence, the door opened again, with the two’s heads popping out.

“Come in, Clara,” Diana spoke.

“Huh?” Clara blinked, the blood draining from her face. “Am I, like… in trouble?”

“No,” Jasmine said calmly. “We just want you to sleep in our bed tonight.” Clara looked even more confused, Jasmine’s words not entirely lining up with the kind of person she usually was. “Is that alright with you?”

Clara knew that answer, of course. “Yes, absolutely, Mistress!” She walked inside to join the two.

* * *