A Holiday Cleaning Job Trapped Me.

Amateur

That summer, I lay in bed, on my first night back home from uni, in an absolute panic. I’d got so much in debt, I was terrified to tell my mum. Credit cards are so tempting, and the next payment was going to be impossible.

Mum was separated from dad, and it was all she could do to keep her head above water, I daren’t heap more problems on her. So it was a relief, next morning, when she said that her boss needed a cleaner for the holidays, while his regular one was away in Australia visiting relatives.

Mr Campbell owned a wholesale importing business for which my mum was the secretary, and accounts clerk. He lived alone, about half a mile from us, in a large house, in quite a well to do road.

I was elated when mum returned from work that evening, and said that Mr Campbell wanted me to go round to his house at 7pm to discuss the possibility of the job over the summer. What did intrigue me slightly was the warning mum gave me.

“Mr Campbell is quite a forceful character, be careful he doesn’t try it on with you, he has a bit of a reputation with the ladies, and his parties can be quite wild. Do you want me to come with you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous mum, I’m not a child, anyway you’ve been to his parties,” was my reply. Mum blushed a little and her response was just an “Hmmmm.”

At 7pm I arrived at the imposing house, strangely quite nervous. I’d met Mr Campbell once before, at a company Christmas party the previous year. Physically, he was a huge man, of African heritage, with a serious, business-like personality.

“Come in Miss Ellie, just go through to the lounge.” His voice was deep and rich. He was dressed in an African robe, which disguised his tall, muscular frame. The lounge was large, and furnished with leather sofas, and had multiple tv screens on all four walls.

He briefly asked me if I could work three days a week, for four hours each day, and the wages would be cash, so that I would pay no tax. He was very specific about what he wanted done, and showed me exactly how he wanted it done. I felt slightly awkward being in his bedroom with him, which was very masculine in the way it was furnished.

Back downstairs he also showed me the attached building, which he used as a gym/lounge bar, that would also need cleaning. He actually said that I could use the gym apparatus, but in my own time.

Finally, he showed me the alarm system, and gave me the keys, and we agreed that I would start the following Monday at 9am.

Mum was pleased that Mr Campbell had given me a job, she said that he was a good man to work for, but he expected a good days work for a good days pay. She had been to his house many times, and I recognised her description of many of the rooms.

So on the Monday, I arrived, and let myself in, and got the cleaning stuff out of the cupboard.

I started by sorting out the kitchen, and moved onto the lounge. I had been told to clean his bedroom next, and by the time I’d moved upstairs, I decided to have five minutes rest.

Being inquisitive I opened some of the wardrobes and drawers, I felt a bit guilty, prying into someone else’s private belongings, but then in the bottom drawer beside the bed I discovered a surprise. Under a magazine was an array of various sex toys, dildos, vibrators, nipple clamps, and tubes of lube.

I couldn’t resist switching a couple of the vibrators on, one or two were actually quite impressive, but all of the discoveries had made me wonder what sort of man Mr Campbell actually was.

I needed to get on, and next I had to clean the gym/lounge bar, and while I was working my way around the room, I found a locked door to a room at the back of the building. Not one to resist a challenge, I wondered where the key might be.

I searched all the obvious places, under rugs, behind photos on walls, and then bingo! I found the key hanging on a hook under a fire extinguisher.

With slight trepidation, but much excitement, I unlocked the door, and opened it.

The room was in darkness, but when I switched on one of the lights my mouth dropped open.

The room was huge, dark, no windows, and various spotlights around the walls and ceiling. In the centre of the room was a large black, leather couch. Around the outside of the room were various benches, ceiling attachments, and strange instruments.

“Fuck me,” I whispered under my breath. All sorts of stuff flashed through my mind, and I quickly shut the door and locked it. Replacing the key on its hook, I went back to my cleaning with my imagination running wild.

I didn’t mention any of this to mum, I just needed my wages to pay the credit card bill at the end of the week. It was due on Friday, but I was concerned when Mr Campbell would pay me?

On the Wednesday I was back at work at 9am once again, still concerned about my debts.

Following my cleaning timetable, I began with the kitchen again, before moving upstairs. There, I set about the bathrooms, and afterwards the second main bedroom. Again, bahis firmaları my inquisitiveness made me open cupboards, and drawers. The top drawer in the dressing table revealed another surprise.

It contained almost a dozen wristwatches, all very expensive. Mr Campbell seemed to have a love of watches, Breitling, Rolex, Tag Heuer, Christian Dior.

I don’t know how it happened, how it came into my mind, how illogical it seemed, how mad an idea it was, but amongst the watches was a ladies’ Rolex. It seemed the odd one out. Would it be missed? It would solve my money problems in one go.

I’d never been dishonest in my life, I’d even hand in money I found on the floor of a shop. But in that moment the solution seemed too easy, I took the watch, and stuffed it in my jeans pocket.

All morning I was racked with guilt, but kept thinking about escaping my debt, at least, for another month.

As soon as I finished work at 1pm. I got the bus into town, and found the pawn shop near the market place. I reckoned that the Rolex must be worth nearly £2k, but the guy in the shop knew I needed the cash and gave me £400 which would pay off this month’s repayments.

I came out with a mixture of emotions, relief at being able to make a payment, guilt at how I was now a thief. At home that evening mum wondered why I was preoccupied, I was very quiet, and I just went into my shell. I knew that if I was found out, with a criminal record my future career would be in ruins.

On Thursday, the day passed slowly, and under a cloud of guilt I set off for work on Friday. When I arrived my heart sank, I felt physically sick, Mr Campbell was at home, and I just knew that something was up.

Letting myself in, I went straight to the kitchen, and, of course, Mr Campbell was there, seated at the breakfast bar, dressed in a business suit, as though he was ready to go to work.

“Good morning Miss Ellie, I thought I’d better catch up with you as it’s Friday,” he said in his deep voice. “You’ve made a good job of your work so far, I’m pleased with the standard of cleanliness, but there is something that’s troubled me.”

This was it, I thought.

“You’re probably not aware, but I am very security minded.”

“Oh god,” I said to myself, “here it comes.”

“I have security cameras everywhere, they’re not entirely visible, and it surprised me that you were able to access my ‘playroom.’ That’s what I call it anyway. My cctv showed that you found the key where it was hidden, which is remiss of me anyway, but it shows you looking inside. I didn’t want you to go away with the wrong impression.”

He stood up, towering over me, I could feel his breath, and could smell the expensive aftershave.

“My business involves me in entertaining clients, your mother probably told you that, and we have parties here that, shall I say, are colourful!”

I was feeling a slight sense of relief, thinking that the ‘wristwatch’ might not have been missed. The other thought that briefly crossed my mind was my mum being at those occasional ‘parties!’

Continuing, Mr Campbell said, “Well now you know all about it, I’d like you to give it a good going over this morning. I have a party here tomorrow night, and it needs freshening up. You know where the key is now, try not to move anything around, and if you have to unplug anything, make sure you replace the plugs, because there are things that are charging up.”

And with that, he was off out the door, adding briefly, “Your wages are in the envelope on the side.”

My full amount was there, I breathed a sigh of relief, and set about unlocking the playroom. This time I turned all the lights on, wall lights, spotlights, and air conditioning.

The room was fascinating. I set about cleaning the leather bed in the centre of the room, which was illuminated by two spot lights. There were metal eyelets around its edge, and hooks on a wooden beam above. As I wiped down the leather, I couldn’t help wondering how many women had been laid on this bed.

But even more intriguing were two machines, which I was sure were called Sybians, on one side of the room. They were hummocks of black leather, with attachments on top that were ridged, and had slots for, I presumed prosthetic cocks. I’d seen some porn movies at uni on a drunken night out with a group of lads. I remembered being turned on by watching the girls having orgasms on them.

They had remote control things wired up to them, which on examination I accidentally switched on. The buzzing made me jump, but I played with them, and soon saw how to vary the settings.

The temptation was too much. I sat astride one of them, and slowly turned the vibrations on. Even through my denim jeans, the effect was surprising. After very few seconds I had to stop and get off. “Stop it Ellie,” I heard myself saying, “for god’s sake get on with your work.”

Which is what I did. Cleaning chains, straps, benches, wooden structures with clamps, a strange leather sling, leather kaçak iddaa sofas, and lots of wall mirrors. It was a real ‘dungeon.’

After an hour I’d pretty much finished. I knew I had to clean the kitchen again, but my eyes kept wandering back to the Sybian.

“Sod it,” I said out loud, and went and locked the door to the playroom from the inside. It seemed a bit daft because I was alone in the house, but it felt safer.

Feeling incredibly naughty I went over to the machine, and studied it some more. Next to it, on the wall, was a cupboard. Opening it up there were four rubbery cock attachments of different sizes. They looked pristine, and perfectly clean.

“Wow,” was all I said. Two were enormous, too big for me, the third looked comfortable. I took it out, and locked it onto the machine. Again talking to myself I said, “Ok, let’s try it.”

On the shelf above the cocks were two pump action bottles of lube, I was going to need that. In trepidation, I slipped out of my jeans, and slid off my panties. Squirting a palmful of lube, I plastered the cock, and rubbed a small amount between my labia. I wasn’t surprised to feel my pussy already wet.

Slowly I stepped astride the machine, positioning the cock against my pussy. I heard myself go, “Oooooooooohhhh,” as I lowered myself down, inch by inch until my whole bodyweight was pressing downwards.

“Here goes,” I muttered, picking up the remote.

I held my breath, smiling, as the vibrating began.

“Jeez,” was all I could say. I felt my eyes close, and I increased the speed. “Fuck,” and then, “oh my god,” breathlessly, as the whole of my body began to shake.

I slowed the remote, and just felt the steady vibrations surge through me in a wavelike rhythm. It was wonderful.

And then I dared to increase the speed again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” my body was trembling. I knew that if I kept up this speed I would cum soon. I wanted to make it last longer, but it had been days since my last orgasm, and I gave in to my need.

Increasing the speed even more, I came with a rush, my hips bucking up and down, making me drop the remote, and forcing me to stand up to escape the violent vibrations. The cock was vibrating so much it was flicking my pussy juices all over its leather covering.

Fumbling to turn the thing off I was on my hands and knees. When it finally went quiet, my whole body was trembling.

“Fucking hell,” was all I could say, trying to kneel upright and reaching for my panties.

Once I’d gathered my thoughts, I cleaned up the Sybian, and got out of there to finish my ‘shift.’

At home that afternoon, I had a chance to think. Mr Campbell seemed unaware of the theft of the watch, but I now knew his house was covered by cctv, but where the cameras were was not obvious. I’d already made a mental note to look around the bedroom, where the watches were kept.

I was also puzzled to know how much mum was aware of Mr Campbell’s social life, and the existence of the playroom.

My other problem was my finances, and how the credit card situation would catch up on me in another month.

When mum got home that Friday evening, she asked how I’d got on, and whether Mr Campbell had paid me my wages. I said there was no problem, but that I now knew that he had a few secrets, because he got me to clean his playroom.

That word ‘playroom’ seemed to make mum jump. It was obvious that she knew all about its existence, and it made me want to know more, to delve deeper.

“Look Ellie, I must confess that I’ve been to parties there, where the playroom has been used. Eric, I mean Mr Campbell, has a wide range of friends, and he is known for holding parties that, well, get quite daring.”

It was the first time I’d heard mum call him by his name ‘Eric,’ and I could see that she was finding it awkward to talk about the parties.

“Oooooooh mum, you’re not letting on, I bet you’ve been to some of those orgies.”

“They are not orgies!” she retorted, quite angrily. “I have seen some things going on there in the playroom, but I am single, and I am an adult!”

It was a sensitive subject, and I’d touched a nerve, so I dropped it. However, it all resurfaced the next morning, when I received a phone call from Mr Campbell.

When my mobile came up with his name and number, my heart missed a beat.

“Miss Ellie,” Mr Campbell’s deep voice chilled me a bit, “I’ve been let down. As you know there’s a party tonight, and one of my two bar staff is not coming, would you like to fill in, I’d pay you well?”

My brain raced, considering if mum would approve? considering if it would be risky? I found myself saying, “Yes, I’d love to, Mr Campbell, what time?”

“Be here at 6.30pm, wear black please, you should be away by midnight, and I’ll pay for a taxi. See you then.”

“Don’t tell me what I think you’re going to,” was all mum said. She had half heard the conversation.

“You’re going into another world Ellie, you should have said no, kaçak bahis I’m not happy about it.”

“I’m grown up mum, I can look after myself, besides, I need the money.” She could tell my mind was made up.

Mum didn’t talk to me much during the day, but decided that she would drive me there. I decided to wear black tights, black mini skirt, and black skinny top. She looked disapprovingly when she dropped me off with a curt, “Take care.”

Mr Campbell opened the door, and I was introduced to Sofie, a pretty, busty girl with an eastern European accent. She too was dressed in black, and had served at parties at Mr Campbell’s before.

She showed me the bar, set up in the hallway, and gave me a run down of what was expected. She knew about the playroom, and told me that we weren’t expected to take drinks in there. She told me that the girl whose place I was taking had once got ‘involved’ in the playroom, but didn’t go into details.

Guests started to arrive after 7.30pm. About fifty people were expected, a mixture of men, women, and couples. There were all ages too, from young twenties, to some in their sixties.

There was one shock though. As with all social functions, you’re always looking for familiar faces, but this looked like being an ‘unusual’ social occasion. The shock came in the form of Jenny, the mother of Chrissie, who I used to be at school with. Jenny arrived in a tight red dress, accompanied by a man not much older than me. I knew Chrissie’s dad, and this guy was definitely not him!

Jenny was a touch embarrassed, and actually whispered to me, “I hope you won’t say anything Ellie. our little secret.” and she winked.

I managed to reply, “No, that’s ok,” before she disappeared into the lounge. An interesting start to the evening!

There was a theme to the evening, everyone had to wear something red, which at least distinguished me, and Sofie from the guests. It became obvious really, because we were the only ones serving drinks, and carrying trays.

We served prosecco as they arrived, and then there was a selection of wines and beers. To begin with people were drinking a lot, and both of us were serving, but after an hour we started to take it in turns to collect glasses from the lounge, and other ground floor rooms.

Various guys tried to chat me up, but I managed to convince them that I was there to serve drinks, and nothing else. Then around 9pm the mood seemed to change.

I was collecting glasses from the lounge, when suddenly all of the tv screens lit up. There was an excited buzz of conversation, and on all the screens came views of the empty playroom.

Of course the room was familiar to me, and, in between the glass collecting, I could see on the screens one or two people moving into the room.

Back at the bar I said to Sofie, “Have you seen the tv screens?”

Her face broke into a broad smile. “You are in for a big shock! The party is just beginning. It’s best if you don’t react to anything you see.”

I smiled back, and just raised my eyebrows.

From then on I was really curious to revisit the lounge, and see what was happening.

“Wait a while, and let things get going,” Sofie laughed, “if you walk past the door when it’s open, you’ll get an idea.”

Sofie saw my puzzled expression, “You’ll hear the noise!”

“Oh fuck, that sounds awesome,” I whispered.

Mr Campbell would appear occasionally, and prompt us if anything needed attention. He had made it clear to the guests not to use the upstairs rooms, but some had been sitting on the stairs, so I had to go and collect glasses from there. He said that I should just make sure that the bedrooms were ok.

I squeezed past one couple who were sitting, chatting, halfway up, and I did find a couple of glasses on a table on the landing. I quickly went along the corridor, opening, and shutting each door in turn. The one at the far end I knew was more or less a store room, with some chairs, tables, and an old office desk.

As soon as I opened the door, I knew that there was someone inside. I heard a woman softly murmuring, and in the dim light I saw her bending over the desk, her dress bunched up around her waist, and a figure that looked almost like a boy, his trousers round his ankles, fucking her from behind.

As soon as they saw me, the boy panicked, backing away from the woman, and scrabbling to pull up his trousers. The woman said, “Fuck,” and stood up, struggling to pull down her tight dress, back over her hips.

Turning I saw immediately it was Chrissie’s mum, Jenny.

“Oh fuck, Ellie, please don’t tell Chrissie…….Oh god Rick, she’ll kill us if she finds out. I knew we’d be found out.”

Something clicked in my memory, perhaps something on social media I’d recalled…..Rick was Chrissie’s boyfriend! Her mum was fucking her daughter’s bloke!

They hurried off along the landing, Rick buckling his belt, and Chrissie pleading with me to be discreet. I wasn’t sure what my reaction should be, but I needed to get back downstairs to help Sofie.

The throng of people had thinned out, with some having ventured into the playroom, and a lot in the lounge watching what was going on in the playroom.

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