“Fine,” he said,

“Alright, it’s a bet. Your team outscores mine. I will wear a butler uniform. But when my team does better, you wear a maid’s costume.” I couldn’t believe he had agreed with it.

I held my glass up, and we clinked glasses. I had butterflies in my stomach as I thought of how far I could push this idea. Should I get a ‘proper’ French maid outfit? Or could I push it and get something more like lingerie.

I also found, for the first time in my life, that I hopped my team would lose.

For the remainder of the night, we chatted casually. I called it pretty early for us and went to bed so I could update Mark on what had happened.

I sent him and Julie a message letting them know that I had let my dress come a little undone before goading my father into the bet.

Mark was the first to message saying that we had a feather duster and I could just bring that. I laughed and told him I thought that might be pushing it a little far. Julie said that she thinks she would look good in a French maid’s outfit, and Mark quickly agreed to buy one for Julie as well if I lose the bet. ‘That way, Julie can get fucked while dressed up as a French maid as Kimmie is.’

I laughed to myself. ‘Sleep well, you two,’ I replied.

I put her phone to the side and immediately brought my hand to her cunt. As my fingers ran between my wet lips, I couldn’t help but moan quietly. “Oh Daddy, I can be your maid. I will serve you however you like.” It felt **** and trite, but I enjoyed it as I continued to finger myself over the thought of being my father’s submissive, of serving him like an illegal immigrant, going to be deported if I was fired.

As my fingers pushed deeper into my cunt I couldn’t help but envisage myself in a maid’s outfit. Bent over the couch as my father fucked me. “Please, yes, fuck me, Dad, fuck your little maid, I’m yours.” My fingers were as deep as I could get them, and it wasn’t satisfying my craving. “Fuck me, please fuck me,” I panted.

Suddenly I was interrupted. Close to orgasm I was stopped.