Maids
by Pan
Chapter 5: Talk About It
“Cindy, honey, what’s going on?”
“What do you mean, Mom?”
Cindy tried to force a smile, tried to look innocent, but it was obvious that her mother saw right through it.
“You know what I’m talking about,” she replied, and there was an awkward pause.
She’s not going to say it, Cindy realized. She’s waiting for me to bring it up.
…how much does she know?
A chill ran down Cindy’s spine at the thought—her mother had obviously noticed the change in her daughter’s wardrobe, but what else did she suspect? Had she noticed that for the past month, Alex hadn’t done any of his own chores? Had she noticed Cindy bringing him breakfast in bed on days when the collar compelled her?
Had she noticed Cindy occasionally spending the night in her brother’s room?
Keep quiet, Cindy told herself. If she knows, she’ll definitely say something…and if she doesn’t, talking will only make it worse.
The minutes ticked by, Cindy and her mother just staring at each other in silence. Cindy was, as always, wearing her collar—it sat above the tight pink T-shirt that she’d bought from the mall on the weekend. Her tits stretched it out obscenely, and it left almost half a foot of midriff exposed…but it still covered more than most of the outfits that she was “allowed” to wear.
Finally, the older woman broke the silence.
“Cindy, love, if anything is happening, you know you can talk to me.”
The sincerity in her mother’s voice surprised Cindy, and before she even thought about what she was saying, she started to tell her mother the truth—that her brother had turned her into his own personal sex slave, that she spent all day and night displaying herself for his pleasure, and that there was no one she could talk to about it…
At least, that was what she tried to do.
“Mom, I’m so horny,” she began, her mother’s eyes widening at the words coming out of her daughter’s mouth. “I’m always wet, and no matter what I do I’m just not satisfied.”
Cindy’s hands clamped over her mouth as she realized what she’d just said. Again, the mother-daughter pair sat in silence, as the sexually-charged words that she blurted out sank in.
“Well,” Cindy’s mother said at last, a nervous quaver in her voice. “That’s…um, well, that sounds…tough.”
In response, Cindy just nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
“And I’m not sure what I can really do to help you with that, but…well, I’m sure that the way you’re dressing isn’t helping.”
Again, Cindy nodded, her sad eyes pleading for her mother to understand what she was actually trying to say, what she’d really meant.
“But I’m glad you told me,” her mother said, her voice softening slightly. “That sounds hard, and if there’s, um, anything I can do…let me know.”
Cindy nodded, and a single tear rolled down her cheek as she fell into her mother’s warm embrace.
“I told you,” Cindy snapped. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
In fact, she wanted nothing more than to talk about it. But if her experiences in the past week had taught her anything, it was that trying to share the predicament she was in wouldn’t lead to anything but declaring how horny she was…or worse.
A few days after talking to her mother, Cindy had made the mistake of trying to take off her collar again. She’d been on her way to her friend’s boyfriend’s 21st birthday party—she had considered skipping it, but she hadn’t been to a party since the collar had first arrived and was starting to get cabin fever.
Her dress had been revealing but classy, a form-fitting piece that was something that even the old Cindy would have worn to a fancy do. Not that the party was particularly fancy, but Cindy was beginning to tire of the glances and whispered comments from her friends.
She’d wanted to go the party…and she’d wanted to look good.
But the collar, of course, ruined the look of the entire outfit.
As she’d been driving to the party, Cindy had glanced in the mirror and seen it. She hated the collar—she hated the way it made her dress, she hated the things it made her do. And she hated how much it made her enjoy what she did with her brother—right before leaving the house, Alex had fucked her to three shuddering orgasms, and even as she drove, she’d unconsciously begun counting down the hours until she’d feel him inside her again.
In a fit of pique, her hand had reached up to unclasp the collar, to throw it out the window and leave it by the side of the highway forever more.
At least that was her intention. Of course, that wasn’t what happened.
Instead, she had been hit by a wave of arousal so powerful it almost caused her to swerve off the road. She’d pulled up to the curb and closed her eyes, one hand immediately groping her right breast through her dress, the other reaching between her legs, making contact with her drenched panties, frantically rubbing the wetness as she obeyed her body’s urgent demands…
And that was when she’d heard the voice.
“Ma’am?”
Her eyes had shot open, and she’d seen a policeman standing there, a curious look on his face.
“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the vehicle.”
As she opened the door, Cindy wanted to explain, wanted to tell him that she didn’t have control of her body, that she couldn’t stop what she was doing.
But instead, of course, something quite different had left her mouth.
“Please,” she’d begged. “I’m in heat. I need cock…I need to be fucked. Please, sir, fuck me. Please. I need it…”
The policeman had raised one eyebrow, and Cindy shuddered with the memory of the orgasm she’d had as she swallowed his seed.
He’d let her off with a warning.
“No,” she said again, in response to her friend’s query. “I do not want to talk about it.”