The Terrace View Apartments Part 7

My new life had settled into a wonderful routine. I would wake very early in the morning, usually still wrapped securely in Mistress Kendra’s arms. I would spend an hour or so working on my figure maintenance exercises, enjoy a cleansing enema, a refreshing bath and body shave, then I would lace and lock myself into my skimpy maid’s uniform, do my makeup and hair, and be ready to see to the needs of our many residents by 6:00am.

It was all run like clockwork. On a typical weekday morning, I would wake up Mr. Johnson with a languid blowjob at exactly 6:05am. Miss Davis and Miss McIntyre required my tongue lapping at their sex by 6:20. Mr. Evans preferred rising at 6:50 to the probing of my tongue in his asshole while he slowly stroked himself to orgasm and let his ejaculate fluid dribble down his crack into my waiting mouth. Of course my reputation as a human toilet went before me, and most of the men (and some of the women) also opted to use my mouth for their morning bathroom.

Mr. and Mrs. Hayes mostly wanted a servant to bring them breakfast in bed each morning at 7:15; although Mr. Hayes did wake with a mean streak in him on some mornings. He would sometimes dip my tender testicles in his coffee cup or stick pins into my nipples in order to see how much pain I could stand.

But this was nothing compared to Mr. Johnson in suite 405. Each Monday and Thursday, I would let myself into his room by 7:45am, and I would usually find one or two of our maid staff hanging immobile from the chains in his playroom. I would release them from their bondage, calling for our support staff when they couldn’t physically walk back to their quarters.

I would then go to the imposing steel chair in the middle of the room and lower myself down onto a 14" dildo that jutted up through the seat. I would lock my thighs to the seat with two attached straps, slip a penis gag down my throat, blindfold myself, lock my hands behind my back with a pair of handcuffs, and then hit the nearby on switch.