Continue to make you clean

As I continued to dust the bookshelves, the old man's eyes remained glued to my every move, his camera flashing erratically as he captured every inch of my exposed flesh. The feather duster tickled my skin, sending waves of pleasure through me, and I couldn't help but moan softly with each stroke. He noticed my arousal and smirked, his excitement palpable in the air. "You're a natural," he said, his voice gruff with desire. "Keep going, sweetie. You're doing a great job."

I moved on to the next task, cleaning his desk. As I bent over, my skirt hiked up even further, giving him an unobstructed view of my round, stocking-clad ass. He stepped closer, his breathing growing heavier, and I felt his hand trace a line down my spine before gently cupping my cheek. His thumb rubbed circles around my tight hole, and I shivered with excitement. He whispered, "You know, a good maid always makes sure everything is clean. Would you like to earn your green Cammy suit by making sure my desk is spotless?"

I nodded, my voice barely a whisper, "Yes, sir."

The old man leaned in closer, his face a mask of pure lust. "Good girl. Now, spread your legs for me." I complied, my legs trembling with anticipation as I felt his fingers slip beneath the fabric of my costume. His touch was surprisingly gentle, teasing my tight pink anal rim before sliding a single digit inside me. I gasped, my body tightening around his finger.

He chuckled, taking more photos as he began to pump his digit in and out of my wet hole. "Such a good sissy," he murmured. "Now, let's see if you can handle a little more while you work." With that, he added a second finger, stretching me open and curling them in a way that hit my G-spot with every thrust. My little cock raging from his expert hands.

I tried to focus on my cleaning, but the sensation was overwhelming. My clitty cock was now fully erect, pressing against the fabric of my costume. Each time I leaned forward, it rubbed against the chair, sending sparks of pleasure through my body. The old man's eyes never left my reflection in the mirror, watching as I succumbed to his touch, my body betraying my every attempt at resistance.

He continued to snap away, capturing every moment of my degradation and pleasure. I was his little plaything, dressed up and performing for his amusement. And as much as I hated to admit it, I was loving every second of it. The thought of being used by this perverted old man was somehow thrilling, pushing me closer and closer to the edge of climax.

He stops.

Withdrawing his fingers from my slick hole, the old man's grin grew even wider. "Now, let's try this one on," he said, holding up a scrap of fabric that could barely pass for a bikini bottom. "It's a **** girl outfit. I think it'll really show off your...assets."

I looked at the tiny piece of clothing in his hand and felt a mix of fear and excitement. It was clear that the bikini bottom was designed to accentuate my little cock rather than cover it. I took a deep breath and nodded, allowing him to help me out of the maid costume. My clit cock bobbed in the air as he slipped the flimsy material over my hips, adjusting it so that the string barely contained my erection.

"Perfect," he murmured, his eyes gleaming as he took a step back to admire his work. "Now, let's get you into this top."

The top was even more revealing than the bottom, with two small triangles of fabric that barely covered my nipples. The strings tied behind my neck and back, leaving my stomach and most of my chest on display. The costume was so skimpy that my rock-hard cock was almost completely exposed, the fabric just barely covering the tip. I felt a rush of embarrassment, but it was quickly drowned out by the thrill of being so openly sexualized.

The old man handed me a pair of matching sandals with high, chunky heels. "These will complete the look," he said, his voice filled with lust. "Now, go ahead and strut around the room for me. I want to see how it all comes together."