Accept the MAID SERVICE task and head back upstairs to the penthouse to clean

You tuck your phone into the tight pocket of your miniskirt, a giggle escaping your glossy lips as you select the MAID SERVICE task. The familiar pink notification appears: "Task accepted! Clean Rick's penthouse wearing nothing but an apron and heels for 35 Babe Bucks!"

The Range Rover continues rocking rhythmically, Becky's theatrical moans echoing through the concrete garage. You skip toward the elevator, your enhanced ass bouncing with each step, leaving Marcus and Becky to their passionate encounter.

Upstairs, the penthouse is blissfully empty. Everyone has gone to work or university, leaving you alone in the sprawling luxury apartment. You bounce excitedly toward the kitchen, where Rick's breakfast dishes remain scattered across the marble countertop.

"I need to, like, document this for the app," you murmur to yourself, setting up your phone on a shelf overlooking the kitchen. You find a second phone—one of Becky's spares—and position it in the living room for additional coverage.

In the master bedroom closet, you discover a frilly black maid's outfit that makes you squeal with delight. "Too many clothes," you pout, removing the dress portion and keeping only the lacy white apron, which you tie around your narrow waist. You complete the look with a pair of black stiletto heels that make your enhanced ass protrude even further.

"Housekeeping time!" you announce to the empty penthouse, striking a pose for the camera before grabbing cleaning supplies from under the sink.

Your first attempt at cleaning goes catastrophically wrong within minutes. You squirt far too much dish soap into the sink, creating a mountain of bubbles that quickly overflows onto the floor. Instead of wiping them up, you slip and slide through them, giggling uncontrollably as you spread soapy footprints across the marble tiles.

In the living room, you knock over a crystal vase while dusting, sending water and flowers cascading across Rick's expensive Persian rug. Your attempts to blot it dry only make the stain spread further.

"Oopsie," you mutter, abandoning the mess to tackle the bathrooms.

The master bathroom becomes a disaster zone when you mix bleach and ammonia-based cleaners, creating noxious fumes that **** you to throw open all the windows. Your enhanced breasts bounce freely as you fan the toxic air out, the tiny apron providing no coverage whatsoever.

By the time the elevator chimes an hour later, the penthouse looks worse than when you started. Bubbles drift through the air, water pools on multiple surfaces, and mysterious stains mark several walls where you attempted to "clean" with incompatible chemicals.

The elevator doors slide open to reveal Becky, her hair disheveled, makeup smudged, and a satisfied glow on her face. She freezes at the sight of the domestic disaster zone.

"What the actual fuck, Ashley?" she gasps, surveying the chaos.

"I'm doing my maid task!" you explain cheerfully, gesturing to the tiny apron that barely covers your nipples. "But I think I need help."

Becky stares at the foaming puddle spreading across the marble floor. "Ya think?"

You bounce over to her, your heels clicking through soapy water. "I had the most amazing idea! You can help me clean! And Marcus too! I found costumes!"

Before Becky can protest, you drag her toward the bedroom closet, where you've discovered not just the maid outfit but an entire collection of role-play costumes. You pull out two more aprons, beaming with pride.

"We can be a cleaning team!" you exclaim. "Call Marcus to come help. The mess is, like, really big."

Becky surveys the disaster zone once more before sighing in resignation. "Fine, but only because Daddy would literally kill us if he came home to this."

Fifteen minutes later, a mortified Marcus stands in the foyer wearing nothing but a small black apron tied around his waist and a pair of black dress shoes. Becky, similarly attired in just an apron and heels, can't stop giggling at his discomfort.

"Miss Ashley," Marcus says stiffly, his professional demeanor severely tested by his near-nudity, "this is highly irregular."

"But super necessary," you insist, pointing to the growing bubble mountain now threatening to engulf the kitchen island. "We need a team effort!"

For the next two hours, the three of you work to undo your cleaning disaster. Marcus takes charge of the toxic bathroom situation, his muscular body glistening with sweat as he scrubs surfaces. Becky handles the living room crisis, bending over repeatedly to blot the rug in ways that leave little to Marcus's imagination. You bounce between rooms, taking frequent selfies for the app and occasionally helping, though your assistance often creates new messes for the others to clean.

14:45 | Tuesday 5 Aug 2025 | Rick's Penthouse, London

[QUEEN BEE] | [Medium] | [Friday 20:00] | [3 days, 5 hours, 15 minutes remaining]

[MAID SERVICE] | [Medium] | [None] | [In progress]