Cleaning day.

Chantelle had collected Janice finding her still dressed in her baby girl outfit and drove her to her house. The house was just on the border of downtown and the middle-class area of the city. Inside, it was decorated in the typical ghetto style - old furniture, mismatched plates, and cheap decorations adorned the walls. Janice looked around uneasily, feeling out of place in the rougher atmosphere. Martha appeared behind her, a predatory smile on her face. "Welcome to our humble abode, Janice. We hope you enjoy your stay." She purred, her words dripping with insinuation. Janice tried to mask her discomfort, attempting to appear unfazed by the crude surroundings." We have brought you here today because we decided that our humble abode needs to be spruced up. Take a shower and then go to Martha's room she has something for you." Said Chantelle in a tone that gave no room for argument. Janice knew better than to question the authority of these two women. With resignation, she headed to the shower to find discarded towels all over the floor. She had her shower then found a short robe which barely covered her breasts and pussy. Walking towards Martha's room, she felt **** and exposed in the ragged garment. The door opened silently revealing a small, dimly lit space adorned with dark, erotic imagery. Candles flickered softly, casting eerie shadows across the walls. A sense of foreboding enveloped Janice as she entered, aware that she was walking into unknown territory.

Martha sat on a large leather sofa, her posture regal and commanding." Ah, Janice go to the closet you will find a suit carrier in there could you bring it here? "Martha ordered while gesturing towards the closet. Janice obeyed without question, nervously approaching the wardrobe as Martha continued speaking. " I want you to wear this outfit it is your uniform for the day." Janice opened the suit carrier and pulled out the uniform she was expected to wear. As soon as she saw it she knew what she would be doing today as it was a full French Maids outfit. She dressed herself in the main part of the uniform then Martha stood handing her some fishnet pantyhose and a pair of Mary Jane shoes." Put these on as well, Janice," Martha instructed, her voice taking on a more authoritative tone. Janice complied without question, struggling to pull the tight pantyhose up her long legs. Once she had finished dressing, Martha critically appraised her appearance. "Very good, Janice. just a few more things to complete your uniform" Martha placed the white headdress on her head followed by wrapping a white apron around her waist. Janice looked in the mirror, her reflection revealing a submissive French maid. Her cheeks reddened slightly, as she realized the extent to which she had been transformed. Chantelle emerged from another room, clad in a stunning black corset and thigh-high boots. Her presence radiated confidence and dominance, captivating Janice.

She surveyed Janice with a predatory smile, approving of her attire."Perfect, Janice. Now time to work first you may have noticed the state of the shower you may start your duties there. You'll need to scrub the tiles and mop the floor until it's spotless. Janice hesitated, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and resentment at having to perform such menial tasks. However, she knew that resisting would only invite further punishment from Chantelle and Martha. Gritting her teeth, she retrieved the cleaning supplies from the closet and set to work, determined to do her best despite the degrading circumstances. She kneeled on the wet tiles, scrubbing away at the grime accumulated over countless showers. The smell of bleach mixed with soap and Janice's perspiration, created a potent cocktail of scents that engulfed her senses. The steam rose around her, fogging the mirror and blurring her reflection. Sweat trickled down her brow, running into her eyes as she worked tirelessly. Despite her efforts, the grimy tile remained stubbornly resistant to her ministrations. Frustration simmered within her, fueled by her burning desire to impress Chantelle and Martha. After hours of backbreaking labour, she finally managed to transform the once filthy shower into a gleaming sanctuary. Her exhaustion was evident in her aching muscles and trembling arms, but she couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment in her work.

As she stepped out of the shower, she heard footsteps approaching from the hallway. Chantelle emerged from the bedroom, dressed in a provocative black lingerie. Her body seemed to exude an intoxicating energy, causing Janice's heart to race with anticipation. Martha appeared beside her, donning a matching ensemble that accentuated her curvy figure. They exchanged knowing glances, conveying a shared excitement for the night ahead. Janice, feeling weak-kneed in her humiliating maid's uniform, struggled to maintain eye contact with these powerful women."Okay, Janice let's see how well you did" Said Chantelle in a tone that demanded obedience. Janice hesitantly approached them, wondering what she might have done wrong. Martha, with a devilish smile, commented, "Well, you seem to have made an effort to clean the shower properly, but let's test your skills elsewhere in the apartment." Janice swallowed hard, understanding that she was to be tested again. Yes the kitchen needs to be cleaned now Janice" said Chantelle. Janice nodded, resigned to the fact that she must now tend to another task. She followed Chantelle into the kitchen, observing the filth that covered every surface. Grease and food particles littered the countertops, staining the once pristine white linoleum flooring. Pans lay scattered haphazardly among dirty dishes, a testament to the chaos that reigned within the room.

A wave of anxiety swept over Janice as she contemplated the daunting task before her. She gathered the necessary cleaning supplies and set to work, focusing on each individual stain and speck of dirt. With determination, she scrubbed and polished every surface, leaving nothing untouched. In the midst of her labours, she caught glimpses of Chantelle and Martha moving about the apartment, their voices occasionally drifting through the open windows. Their conversations were laced with subtle innuendos and teasing remarks, eliciting a mix of fear and arousal within Janice. After two hours the Kitchen was spotless and Chantelle entered praising Janice. "Well done just in time for you to prepare our lunch," Said Chantelle in a tone of satisfaction. Martha giggled " I cannot wait to enjoy the lunch you prepare." Janice was left alone in the kitchen while Chantelle and Martha went and relaxed in the living room. Janice was to bring their lunch to them. When she entered the living room there was no table. Well, there was but it was covered in empty takeaway containers. Chantelle took the tray and ordered Janice down on all fours in front of the couch. Chantelle placed the tray on Janice's back and warned her not to move. Janice felt the tension build within her as she carried the meal on her bent form. Martha smirked "What an elegant table I wonder how much we could get for her Chantelle?" Her voice was light-hearted, yet Janice shivered at the implication.

The intensity of the situation heightened as Chantelle gazed at Janice from the corner of her eye. Without warning, Chantelle commanded, "All right, now we shall dine." Martha's eyes glinted with delight as she reached for a remote control, switching on the television. Janice's heart raced as she realized they would remain seated while she acted as a table. The TV sprung to life with a film of several older white women being dominated by younger ethnic women. It was obviously a porno video. Janice squirmed beneath the weight of the food tray. Her face flushed, mortified by the audacity of Chantelle and Martha to subject her to this degrading spectacle. She tried to focus on her breathing, attempting to steady herself amidst the escalating situation. As the film progressed, scenes of female submission became increasingly graphic. Janice's body began to respond involuntarily to the stimuli, betraying her thoughts of shame and guilt. Soon the tray was lifted and Janice was told to rise take the tray back and clean up the lunch plates. After cleaning away the lunch plates and utensils Janice next had to clean the living room. She started picking up the empty takeaway containers one by one. She couldn't help but notice that underneath the trash on the floor were traces of spilt drinks and food, evidence of their previous indulgence. She decided to tackle the mess systematically, working her way from one end of the room to the other.

With each item picked up, Janice found herself reflecting on the events that led her to this position. How she had allowed herself to become entangled in this web of manipulation and domination. She dusted down the shelves followed by vacuuming the carpet. She meticulously wiped the surfaces free of any remaining crumbs. As she cleaned, her thoughts continued to spiral, consumed by memories of past failures and the present circumstances. Janice felt a **** yearning for escape, yet knew that her options were limited. The weight of her subjugation bore heavily upon her shoulders, leaving her physically and emotionally drained. As she moved around the room, dust particles danced in the sunlight streaming through the window, casting a dreamlike quality to the environment. With the living room now clean she moved to the bedrooms starting with Chantelle's. Janice tidied up clothes, books, and personal items, ensuring everything was orderly. In doing so, she discovered intimate photographs of Chantelle and other girls, hinting at her adventurous nature. Janice blushed, feeling a mixture of envy and curiosity as she examined the images. Next, she turned her attention to Martha's room. Martha's space was less personal, consisting mostly of clothes and cosmetics. Janice quickly tidied the area, taking care not to disturb anything that might belong to Martha. Finishing the task, she walked back into the main room, where Chantelle and Martha were discussing something in hushed tones.

Curiosity piqued, Janice listened carefully, trying to discern the nature of their conversation. It was clear that they held a certain level of trust in each other, as their banter flowed smoothly, accompanied by occasional laughter. However, their secretive exchange only served to fuel Janice's growing uneasiness and suspicion. As Janice silently observed them, she felt like an unwanted intruder. "Maid have you finished your cleaning duties?" asked Chantelle. She ordered her to perform oral sex on her. While she knelt between Chantelle's legs, Janice felt a surge of panic rise within her. This act was beyond her limits, pushing the boundaries of her comfort zone. As she hesitated, unable to initiate the deed, Chantelle's demeanour shifted. Martha chimed in, her voice dripping with malicious intent. "Come on, Janice." grabbing her head she pushed Janice's mouth onto Chantelle's neatly shaved pussy. The taste of her juices filled Janice's mouth, sending a shockwave of sensation throughout her body. Janice tried to hide her discomfort, biting her lip to stifle a moan. Chantelle's hand clasped tightly on the back of Janice's head, guiding her movements, adding pressure as needed. Despite her revulsion, Janice found herself succumbing to the rhythm, becoming absorbed in the act. Her lips pressed against Chantelle's warm, wet folds, her nose brushing against the soft flesh surrounding her entrance. The scent of musk and desire permeated the air, filling Janice's nostrils with a heady mix of arousal and fear.

Every touch, every breath, intensified the sensations coursing through her body. Her hands trembled as she reached out to steady herself, her fingers clutching the fabric of Chantelle's skirt. Chantelle released her orgasm and Janice was **** to swallow. "Now it's Martha's turn maid," said Chantelle. Martha stepped closer, a gleam in her eyes. "I think I will watch you this time," she added with a sinister smile. Janice's heart sank as she realized that the torment was far from over. She reluctantly got up and moved towards Martha. As Martha lowered her own short black dress, exposing her curvaceous body, Janice's pulse quickened. Martha's skin glistened with perspiration, and her hair tousled. Janice could feel the anticipation thickening the air as she knelt before Martha. Gripped by a sense of dread, she prepared herself mentally for what was to come. Martha sat regally on the couch, crossing her legs seductively. Her green eyes flashed with confidence, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. Janice's gaze travelled up and down Martha's toned legs, stopping briefly at the dark patch of hair between her thighs. Janice buried her head between Martha's thighs letting her tongue explore. Martha gripped the back of Janice's head, urging her on, pressing herself into Janice's face. Her scent enveloped Janice completely. Sweat mixed with arousal, creating a powerful cocktail that intoxicated Janice. Martha's breaths grew heavier, more urgent, and Janice knew her time was running out.

The moment arrived, and Martha cried out, her body tensing in release. Janice swallowed her juices, tears welling in her eyes as she did so. With both Chantelle and Martha satisfied they looked down at Janice. "Okay, Janice your performance as our maid was adequate. Every Saturday you will come here and cook and clean, and next week you can also do our washing," said Chantelle coldly. "Remember, you're just a ****." Janice's throat tightened at the word '****,' realizing the extent of her enslavement. She nodded quietly, understanding that there was no escape from this twisted arrangement. She asked herself did she really wanted to escape this humiliation and submission to these young women. Janice was given her own clothes and she left and went home. She took a long hot shower, trying to wash away the memories of the day. The steam enveloped her body, easing her tension. She spent hours in the warmth, thinking about how her life had become such a tangled web of deceit and servitude. Then she went to bed and had a fitful sleep.