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Cleaning Girl free porn video
Cleaning girl
By meeah soo
1.
The key rattled in the lock. I sat there, petrified, staring at my door.
Unbelievably, it started to slowly open and I tried to shout a warning
but it was too late. The pretty young Hindu girl who cleaned our offices
put her hand to her mouth and her dark eyes flashed with embarrassment
and surprise.
"Oh I'm so sorry," she giggled, "ooh, very sorry!"
I tried to explain, to excuse myself, something. But what could I say?
She'd caught me with my pants down, literally. I was sitting at the
computer, my cock in hand, masturbating.
I was looking at a transgender storysite, reading a t-girl fantasy.
I was naked. I was wearing a pair of red satin panties.
2.
I went to work early the next morning and worked harder than I had in
months. I made a point of chatting with my supervisor, hoping to confirm
that nothing had been said. If the cleaning girl went to human resources
and reported what she'd seen, I figured I could be in big trouble.
I had no idea why she'd been going into my office so late: usually, she
was finished with our floor hours before. I'd gone out for a drink
earlier and returned to the office after 10pm. The offices were empty;
the floor quiet. I never thought I'd be interrupted. Still, I wasn't so
sure that either my supervisor would see it that way, or, more
importantly, our company's head of Human Resources, Victoria Thane,
who's single-minded obsession seemed to be the elimination of anything
she deemed even hinted of sexual harassment. I wasn't sure that to Ms.
Thane exposing myself, even accidentally, to a female member of the
cleaning staff wouldn't fall under that heading.
But the work day passed and so did the next and nothing happened.
Each day I left the office shortly after 5pm?a full hour before the
cleaning staff usually arrived. I wanted to make sure I didn't run
across the girl again.
3.
Three weeks went by and I figured the incident was forgotten...until one
day I noticed that my wastebasket was still full from the night before.
I didn't think much of it?probably just an oversight?but it wasn't
emptied the next day or the day after that. I asked around: I was the
only person whose wastebasket wasn't emptied or whose office went
uncleaned.
I tried to make a joke of it at first. I emptied my wastebasket myself
in the men's room or the office kitchen.
"You must have pissed someone off pretty good," Pete Vick, the accounts
supervisor said one morning, laughed as he sipped coffee and watched me
stuff yesterday's discarded paperwork in the copy room paper recycling
bin.
The cleaning girl's neglect of my office continued.
Eventually, my supervisor, Rita Harris saw me one too many mornings in
the hallway with my full wastebasket. She didn't seem amused. She told
me to call office services and see what the problem was.
I had thought of calling office services, of course. But I didn't want
anything I said to sound like a complaint. I didn't want the cleaning
girl to get in trouble and find out it was me who'd been responsible.
The last thing I wanted to do was get her angry: and have her tell
everyone what she'd seen.
So that evening I stayed on at the office after 5pm. I waited for the
cleaning staff to get there. My heart was in my throat.
I had no choice.
4.
I tried to act casual. She was pushing her garbage pail on wheels down
the hall and about to pass my door. I called out, and said, "Excuse
me...ummm...excuse me but could you..."
She was wearing her usual blue uniform which fit her trim, shapely body
snugly. She was wearing thick-soled shoes and white socks which were in
sharp contrast to the swell of her smooth brown calves. Her black hair
fell in a long braid down her back. Her delicate face was remarkably
pretty for a girl who worked alone at night. I'd often thought so. She
regarded me with large, sparkling dark eyes.
"Oh you," she said, with a smile on her lips, "do you still work here? I
haven't seen you around."
Her speech was only slightly accented?and I realized that aside from a
quick and courteous "hello" now and then, I'd never spoken or even
thought to have a regular conversation with her.
"My wastebasket..."
"What about it?"
"It's...you know...full..."
"So?"
I sat there at my desk, staring at her, and then down at her shoes. I
could feel myself blushing red-hot. I didn't know what to say. I knew
something was happening here, some basic shift in power. I knew that
nothing was going to ever be the same again. I waited for her to make
the next move. There was no question that it was hers to make. I knew
that from now on she would be in control.
5.
"From now on," she started, "you will empty your own wastebasket and
clean your own office. In fact, you will clean this entire floor. You
will stay after hours and wait for me to arrive with the equipment and
then you will clean all the offices. Do you understand?"
"But..."
"The answer is ?yes, ma'am.' Say it."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Are you wearing your panties?"
I could feel my face flush with embarrassment. "I...no...I don't..."
She interrupted me. "The answer is ?no, ma'am. Say it."
"No, ma'am."
"From now on, you'll be wearing panties. Is that understood? And you
will have your toenails painted. That means no more socks. I also want
your body waxed girly smooth. Starting tomorrow, I will find something
appropriate for you to wear as you go about your chores. But tonight you
can just throw out your own trash and go home and get started. Do you
understand?"
"Yes, ma'am."
6.
That night?and the nights that followed?I thought of some way out of my
predicament. I scanned the classifieds. I considered a bribe. I thought
of going to Human Resources myself and laying out what had happened.
While I pondered these options, I continued to show up at work every
day, and to clean the offices every night.
I'd wait for everyone to leave and then slip out of my clothes and put
on the cleaning girl "uniform" that Ahalya had given me to wear. The
light-blue dress was almost identical to the one she wore except cut
shorter. It seemed to me that uniform was two-sizes too small and if I
wanted to reach something on the floor I had to bend at the knees to do
it. On top of that I had to hold the hem to keep it from riding up over
ass. Not that it made that much difference. The outline of my black
slingshot panties was clearly visible through the thin material.
I felt terribly exposed pushing a vacuum cleaner through the empty halls
of the office. What if someone came back late? What would they think of
me dressed like this? I emptied the trash and cleaned up the desks of my
colleagues. But I felt like a different person. I was wearing a dress
that exposed my bare legs and a pair of rubber slides on my feet. The
shoes were open in the front so Ahalya could see my "pretty painted
toes." She'd given me a wig to wear: a long mane of glossy straight
black hair. I was wearing shiny lipstick and my eyes were made-up.
On the left breast of my uniform was my new name: Sakari.
7.
Weeks passed. While I cleaned up the floor, Ahalya would sit at my
computer and read through my work files. Every once in a while, she'd
interrupt my dusting or vacuuming to ask me a question or two. In a very
short time, she seemed to know my job as well, if not even better, than
I did.
Other nights, leaving me behind, she'd get dressed up and leave for a
date with one of her handsome Indian boyfriends. Sometimes she'd return
from dinner or a movie to show me off. They would laugh at me as I
hustled off to the office kitchen to fetch them a coffee or a chai tea.
Only once did I make the mistake of objecting. Ahalya responded by
calling one of her acquaintances from the cleaning crew: a huge mute
black man who carried the trash down from the various floors in the
building.
Bent over the desk of the business manager, I felt the tears of pain and
humiliation leaking from my eyes. Darren had pulled my uniform up over
my hips and the lacy red g-string I was wearing down around my ankles.
Realizing that I wasn't going to put up a fight, he removed the heavy
arm he'd pressed to the back of my neck and finished spanking my bare
ass with his calloused hand.
Then, spitting noisily on his fingers, he thrust three of them inside
me. Ahalya, sitting on the desk of an administrative assistant, watched,
seemingly fascinated, as Darren proceeded to rape me. He thrust his
enormous cock inside me, forced his way passed my last resistance, and
fucked me so deeply I thought he would split me apart. I could feel the
knot of his cum rising through his cock as it exploded into my bowels.
When I rose from my desk, pushing down my uniform and pulling my panties
up over my cummy asshole, trying to preserve whatever dignity I could, I
heard Ahalya laughing. My last shred of dignity had officially
evaporated. I had betrayed myself. On the desk in front of me I saw that
I had cum all over the next quarter earnings report.
"Clean up that mess, you stupid bitch," Ahalya said. "And don't ever
disobey me again."
I did as she said. I would from now on.
8.
While it's true that from then on I didn't give Ahalya any trouble, it
wasn't the last time that she had me service Darren. It wasn't so bad,
though, once I got used to it. I'd bend over a desk in the publicity
department and take it in the ass. Or I'd kneel down in my friend Rick's
office and lick Darren's purple swollen balls and take his thick shaft
between my painted lips. The huge black man towered over me, and I could
feel the power vibrating through him when he took my face in his strong
hands, or grasped my pale hips from behind, but once he felt how docile
I'd become, he didn't hurt me any more than was absolutely necessary for
him to cum inside my ass or mouth.
Sometimes, afterwards, if I wasn't careful enough, I'd have to spend
extra time on my hands and knees scrubbing the stains out of the office
carpet.
Ahalya left me alone for longer and longer periods of time to clean the
office while she went out on dates. By now, she had learned everything
about my job. I think she actually knew more about it than I did.
One night I was dusting off some ledgers with my feather duster when my
friend Rick barged onto the floor with a giggling girl. They were both a
little drunk from the sound of them. I froze, panicked. I wanted to run
but I couldn't move. I was done for!
But Rick and his girlfriend passed right by without even recognizing me
before disappearing into his office. Before he shut the door, he turned
towards me and said, "Hey, don't I know you from somewhere."
"No sir," I said, "I don't think so."
My heart was hammering in my chest. If he recognized me, I was through.
He looked at me carefully for a few seconds and then shook his head. "I
could swear I know you from someplace sweetheart," then he winked and
told me to make sure I didn't disturb him: he had some important work to
do. His girlfriend laughed. I did my best to disguise my voice. I was
trembling with relief.
I said, "Yes sir."
I used the sing-song Indian accent Ahalya had me practice. My Indian
language lessons were really paying off.
But my relief soon turned to low-grade panic. What was going on? It's
true that the floor was dark and Rick was a bit drunk, but he had
mistaken me for a girl!
By now, Ahalya had put me on a strict vegetarian diet and given me a
long list of foods and spices to buy at an Indian grocery downtown. I
spent most of what little free time I had learning to cook from the
recipes she gave me. I thought I must be gaining weight because my
cleaning uniform was getting pretty tight across the ass and hips. But
Ahalya only laughed and told me I was being a "silly girl." She told me
I looked just fine and as proof pointed out how Darren couldn't seem to
keep his hands off me.
I felt strangely relieved. Darren grabbed my plump tits, pulling them
out of the lacy half-bra I was wearing under my uniform. He grunted as
fingered my sensitive nipples and he came to a scalding orgasm inside my
chubby ass.
I figured Ahalya must be right. I must look okay.
9.
I guess it was only a matter of time. My supervisor Rita Harris called
me into her office. She sat across from me looking very serious. She
tapped a folder with a perfectly manicured finger which I was admiring.
I wondered what my own hands would look like with a French manicure.
Ahalya had told me if I saved up my money maybe I could get one...
"Are you paying attention Robert?" my supervisor said impatiently.
"Huh-uh..." I hardly recognized my old name. I'd been thinking of myself
as Sakari for quite some time. "Yes...I...excuse me...I don't think I
heard you what you were saying..."
Ms. Harris looked at me strangely, or I should say, more strangely than
she'd been looking at me all along. It was my voice, I guess. Americans
can be so prejudiced. It's true that I speak with an accent but I
understand English perfectly.
"Your work here, Robert, has not improved one bit since the last time we
talked."
Last time?had we spoken already? I didn't remember. I didn't doubt that
my work had suffered since I'd been under Ahalya's direction. After all,
I was up virtually all night cleaning the office I'd be working in the
next day.
I sat quite still as Ms. Harris explained that she didn't know what had
happened to me. That I'd had such promise. She passed me a box of
tissues. I seemed to be crying... She pointed out that she'd done her
best to accommodate the changes I was going through. But that when it
came to job performance, her mandate was clear. I begged her to give me
a second chance. I promised I'd work harder. But Ms. Harris was firm.
The decision had already been made. I had to be let go.
She told me that she'd already hired someone to take my place. I wasn't
surprised when she told me it was Ahalya.
My supervisor let me cry it out for a while. Then she came around the
desk and tried to comfort me as best she could. I knew she was right. I
couldn't keep up with my work anymore. The fact was that I barely
understood what I was doing. She told me everything would be okay. She'd
already made an appointment for me in Human Resources. Maybe Ms. Thane
could find a place more suited for my skills within the company.
I sniffed, dabbed at my nose, and gave her a trembling smile. I checked
my face in the mirror of my compact. My mascara had smudged a little but
hadn't run. The glistening peach lipstick I was wearing brought out the
creamy brown lustre of my skin. I guess the special cream Ahalya gave me
to help my complexion really worked. My hair, jet black and glistening
with fragrant oil, had grown out. It was parted in the middle and tied
back in a straight braid that lay between my bare shoulder blades.
I stood up and smoothed my printed skirt. In my flat sandals, my brown
toes looked cute with their pink polish and toe-rings. On my left ankle
hung a thick bronze anklet with tiny bells. My tight black stretch top
held my breasts in place without the benefit of a bra and clearly
outlined my nipples. The jingle-jangle of my anklet always seemed to
cheer me up. I was feeling much better by the time I got to the
elevator.
10.
Ms. Thane sat behind her large glass desk dressed in a red-pantsuit. Her
salt-and-pepper hair was pulled back tightly. She didn't wear any make-
up. She was what they called a handsome woman. As head of Human
Resources, I knew that she wielded the power of life and death over my
career. What she seemed to be telling me now was that my career was
over.
I was part of her affirmative action program, she explained. It was her
goal to advance the cause of women and minorities within the company.
For too long, men had the advantage...
She said more, but I was having trouble following.
I was feeling upset all over again. Ms. Thane gave me a sympathetic
smile and extended a box of pink tissues. "There, there Sakari dear.
Crying never helped anything."
I took one of the pink tissues and dabbed my kohl-lined eyes.
"What am I going to do, Ms Thane?" I said in my sing-song voice. "I need
a job very badly."
"There is an opening," she said. "If you're interested...
"Oh I am," I exclaimed, "I am! I would be very happy to be Ms. Ahalya
Singh's new secretary."
"I'm afraid there's some misunderstanding Sakari," Ms. Thane said
patiently. "You're not qualified to be Ms. Singh's secretary. I'm sorry,
dear." She looked down at a sheet of paper on her glass-topped desk.
"The position I'm considering you for is cleaning girl.
11.
Tonight is just like the other nights. I come to the office after-hours
and empty the trash bins and dust the desks. Later, I'll vacuum the
floors and clean out the restrooms. At break time, Darren will have me
suck him off in the basement and then he'll fuck me in the ass on a
mattress he's set up behind the furnace. If there's time, he likes me to
strip first to my sexy underwear and jingling ankle bracelet and I dance
for him.
I'm lucky to have this job.
I don't like the drab blue uniform very much, but underneath I do get to
wear my sexy lace lingerie. I spend what little money I can spare on my
pretty things. On the weekends, I clean house for Ms. Ahalya and her new
fiancee. I have to work very hard. I don't make much money as a cleaning
girl.
Sometimes one or another of my old colleagues works late. I empty their
trash can and smile politely. A few times Mr. Rick has been there after-
hours. He waits until I bend to take his trash can and then he gives me
a hard pinch on my plump behind. He laughs. He thinks that's very funny.
He tells me I have nice legs and nice tits. He makes me pull up my
uniform to show him my thong underwear.
When he's done, I smile politely and thank him. I wish him a good night.
I know better than to complain to Ms. Thane or Ms. Ahalya. I'm very,
very lucky to have this job.
Many times, Ms. Ahalya will be working late on an important project.
She's very successful. She makes me knock softly on her door before I
come into her office so I don't disturb her. Sometimes I just take her
trash and leave. Other times, she has me shut the door. I know what I'm
supposed to do then.
I kneel on the floor between her legs and lick her pussy.
After she's cum, I gently dry her. Then I get up from the floor and
empty her trashcan. She likes to see me wiggly my behind when I leave.
Ms. Ahalya says that it makes me look happy. She says I'm a lucky Indian
girl. She says I should be happy.
I am.
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