A Maid Of Her Own

"Hello Annabelle," said the rosy cheeked blonde as she slid into the booth across from me. She was noticeably squirming, but her clear blue eyes met mine. She seemed oblivious to the stares from the other customers in the diner. She was wearing a leather jacket zipped up, but it was plain to see that she was wearing the same thing she had on the last time I had seen her, a year ago.

The outfit in question was a maid's uniform, and a very revealing one at that, to put it diplomatically. I had been **** to fire her from the call center we had worked at for showing up wearing it. She had begged to keep her job, claiming that she couldn't take the costume off. But that was ridiculous, and I couldn't have her disrupting the office like that. And then out of the blue I received a text from her, inviting me to lunch. I had agreed, thinking maybe she wanted to apologize.

"What are you doing Sarah? Why are you still wearing that godawful thing around?"

Sarah continued to squirm, but her expression remained serious.

"You know why. I already told you, it doesn't come off. I wished to god it did."

"Sarah, that's ridiculous. And obviously not true. You'd be filthy, and you're not. Now, I don't have time for this," I said standing up. Her hand flashed out lightning quick, and her perfect fire-engine red nails gripped my wrist.

"Sit down," She hissed. I was so shocked I did. Sarah had always been quiet and polite when I had worked with her.

"You're right, I should be filthy, but I'm not." She glanced down at herself, breathing heavily. "Whatever keeps me trapped keeps me clean. It keeps me pretty. I haven't had a period since I put it on. I'm not even sure I've aged."

I could only gape as her eyes met mine again. Her lips were a glossy harlot red. Had they been that way when she arrived? Not noticing I was doing so, I leaned forward as she started to speak in a low voice.

"But the worst thing is, it teases me. Almost constantly. And it's never let me orgasm. Not even once."