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Chapter 2 by Ariel Benson Ariel Benson

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Living With 100 Maids in a Man’s World: Chapter 2

Author's Note: New chapter is updated every week, six chapters in total, but if you want to skip the waiting period or simply support me, you can purchase the official e-book of Living With 100 Maids in a Man’s World at arielbenson.com or Gumroad. Thank you very much.

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Living with 100 maids in a Man’s World

Chapter 2

Dinner is an elaborate affair. Under a crystal chandelier, twenty nude nymphs lie side by side on a long mahogany banquet table. With the chairs removed, their heads hang off the table, their mouths opening wide, hungry for their master’s mighty organs. Their alabaster skins are covered in fancy dishes and garnished with bright blooms and herbs. Their vaginas are bulging with ripe seasonal fruits.

Derek parts his robe and places his heavy sacks on a nymph’s open mouth. His flaccid manhood perches on her chin and neck as the girl gently tongues the creases on his testicles. He sighs in contentment, listening to his head maid present each dish in detail.

“Mont St.Michel flat oysters with lemon slices and shallot vinaigrette.”

He glances at a circle of half-shelf raw oysters interweaving with lemon slices on the nymph’s belly. Each oyster is on a special bronze insulated ice pod, resembling flower petals. In the middle, directly on her belly button is a bronze bowl of shallot vinaigrette, acting as a pistil. He nods, signaling his approval for the dish. As his head maid drizzles the shallot vinaigrette on an oyster. He cups the nymph’s sunflowers-covered breasts, making her moan straight to his balls. While enjoying a fresh shellfish plucked from the ocean, he brushes the flowers off her tits and orders. “Massage my cock.”

The nymph rolls her taut, huge melons on his shaft while licking his wrinkled ball sacks. Loud groans echo from her throat every time his steel fingers on her nipples wickedly clamp down. By the time he finishes the dish, his prick is rock-hard.

The next nymph’s tits are covered in shredded radish with the exception of her nipples. Her midsection is covered entirely in sashimi. She isn’t so lucky like her sister nymph when the entire length of his thick rod mercilessly rams down her throat. His hip sways casually back and forth, enjoying the warm embrace of her esophagus. Her balls rhythmically tap her nose, filling her nostril with his musk.

“We have—”

He waves off his head maid and takes a pair of chopsticks from her. His chopsticks pick up the nymph’s nipple, pulling upward, stretching the knob to the fullest extent, eliciting a sharp and long growl. Her gullet quakes around his erection. Grinning, he spares the sensitive organ and enjoys a slice of fatty tuna, leaving her huffing for more. He turns his attention to the sushi rolls between her breasts and teasingly soaks up the sauce on her skin. Her moans are now long and loud, vibrating deeply around his shaft. With a simple pair of chopsticks, he plays her like a musical instrument.

His dinner is always overserved. He leaves many dishes untouched. But even when he doesn’t take any bite, he makes sure to enjoy every mouth at least once. And his nymphs are more than happy just to taste his prick. He scoops up some of the sauces with his cock and makes them guess. Because the sauces are mixed randomly together, no one can guess right. With twisted glee, he punishes the poor nymphs by whacking their cheeks with his erection until they are fiery red with his cock imprints. After he is done with his perverted game, the nymphs pull their legs up and spread them wide to present the ripe fruits bulging from their sleek caverns.

He walks past the boring strawberries and cherries until a particularly large grape catches his eyes. The purple grape is bigger than a plum that the nymph’s glistening and swollen labia can barely hold onto. A devious thought pops into his mind. With every ounce of his strength, he smacks her clit. The nymph cries and the grape jumps on the floor. He grins wildly and rapidly strikes her bulging knob. With each smack, a grape along with a wanton wail pop out. When she has nothing left to give, he stops and digs two fingers inside her inner walls.

For safety reasons, every fruit inside the nymph is counted and noted carefully. The head maid says, “There are still six grapes inside, master.”

“Oh.” He smiles and withdraws his now soaking-wet digits. Staring at the nymph’s velvety pussy lips and rosy gaping hole, he has a brilliant idea. “Get me a tumbler.”

“Yes, master.” The head maid motions one of the attending maids and quickly hands him the tumbler. But to her surprise, he only signals her to kneel at his feet. Complying, she puzzledly looks up at him.

“Collect the juice.” He pushes the nymph’s thighs wide open and plunges every inch of his impressive rod inside her. His fat crown crushes the succulent grapes against her cervix. Juice trickles along his length, then out of her vulva, which his head maid quickly collects. After a few minutes, the juice ceases. He waves a maid over and says, “Grapes.”

“Yes, master.” The maid curtsies and quickly returns with a tray full of fruits.

He diligently juices one grape at a time with his cock while crushing the nymph's clit and forcing her to orgasm nonstop to deepen the flavor profile of his drink. Her hands grip the edge of the table, her toes curling, her throat hoarse from screaming.

“The tumbler is full, master,” the head maid says, carefully balancing the brimming glass of juice in her hand.

He smirks and pulls his crimson hardness out. “Taste.”

“My pleasure, master.” On her knees, she smiles delightedly at his concocted potion. However, when she is about to sip, he stops her with a grin.

“You’re missing the cream.” With that said, he shoots a gallon of white cum at her. Some land on the tumbler, some on her face.

“Thank you, master.” Her eyes shine brightly. She licks his semen off her lips and gulps down the mixture. When none is left, she sticks her tongue inside and licks the remaining droplets in hope to catch every drop of his load.

“Delicious?” He smirks triumphantly, stroking her golden locks with his half-hard cock.

She leans into his member, savoring the scent and feel of his manhood. “Yes, master. Sweeter than honey. Fresher than summer lemonade.”

“Well said.” He aims his prick at the top of her forehead and pisses, soaking her hair, face, and the rest of her body in his urine. She may be a head maid, but to him, she’s simply a lowly . “Use a marble dildo and juice me a glass every morning. Cycle through the new sluts first.”

“As you wish, master.” She smiles sweetly, relishing the warm waste showering her from top to bottom. Glancing at the exhausted nymph, she asks, “What do you want to do with the fruits left inside her, master?”

“You girls can share.” He shakes his prick and flicks the remaining piss at her face.

“You’re too kind, master.” She lowers her head, plans to dig out the crushed fruits with a long spoon, and keeps the spoil for herself. Each one must be filled with the musk of his glorious cock. Her loins are burning at the thought of munching on the succulent fruit.

(To be continued)

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