Pleasuring the Maid

Chapter 1: Introduction

**Ava's Pov***

It wasn't till the wee hours that my eyes began to droop. I was physically tired, every part of my body

ached but still sleep wouldn't come my way. My legs and feet had this irritable tinkling accompanied by

a slight burning sensation. Every attempt to stretch my muscles and limps got countered by the slight

pain that arose.

My mind and my body refused to coordinate, each one of them working on it's own. Yes my body

needed rest, but my mind kept on moving, forcing thoughts and memories to run in cycles.

I had tried all the tips doctors wrote about getting a good night sleep. I avoided caffeine before going to

bed. I'd also tried listening to music, hoping that my brain system would slow down and finally let my

eyes droop. But no, every little thing had left me even more awake.

The day had been a busy one, all the cleaning I had done during the day was catching up with me. I

cleaned everything that was in that house, the kitchen was stainless, the bedrooms were well dusted

and left smelling like detergent and cleaning chemicals, the toilets and bathrooms were well scrubbed

and left spotless. Their clothes were well washed, ironed and neatly arranged in their walk in closets,

even their shoes were shining. Each pair was perfectly arranged on the rack.

I mean it's pretty obvious that after a tiresome day one should sleep like a damn log, but no I had to

keep on tossing and turning on my queen sized bed. I willed my eyes to close even for a minute but

nothing of that sort happened.

Luckily I didn't attend school so I had nothing to worry about, you know homework and other annoying

school stuff. That didn't mean that I didn't yearn to attend college, actually I wanted to in my heart. But

like the saying goes, everything doesn't always work out.RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

It had been like this for a while now, working my ass off every Saturday at the Romans'. The death of

my mother had forced me to take the only available job at the time.

Luckily Reynard and Renata were kind enough to offer me a house keeping job at their mansion. I did

general cleaning on Saturdays, but during the week I'd still go to either cook, or water the flowers and

take care of their beautiful garden.

I had gone knocking at their place after my mum passed on. Reynard, Mr Romans had approached me

after my mums funeral. He had said his condolences, then he had introduced himself to me.

He told me that he knew that my situation wasn't easy to say the least. He said that they were looking

for a house help and that I would be of great help to them. I didn't even think twice, I accepted the deal

straight on. It was better than nothing plus I needed to atleast feed and clothe myself while at it.

Now, I was in my small house that was given to me by my uncle, the only relative that gave a damn

about my fucking existence. I couldn't afford to pay rent for the two bedroom house that we used to live

in with my mum. So when uncle Rob gave me the keys to that old tiny house, I gladly took them.

My grandparents weren't as loving, my cousins hated my sorry ass and well, my only aunt was busy

travelling the world to not remember that her only sisters' child was orphaned and all alone. Except for

the pictures she sent daily showing off her perfect body or showing her newest conquest, she never

really cared. As much has her presence or lack thereof bothered me, I couldn't hate her.

The Romans were a happy family, with two children, both handsome men that were already in college,

Ray was the oldest at 22 and Bryson was turning 20 in a few months.

The problem with those handsome devils is that they were mean, rude and arrogant. They always

teased me, taunted me and called me names with every chance they got.

They made my life a living hell ever since I stepped feet in that mansion. I tried my very best to avoid

them but somehow someway, we usually ended up bumping into each other. Every time that

happened, I would leave crying or trying to force back tears.

Ray was somehow the better one, he was kind of calm and cool than his younger brother. He would

always make the insults less hurting. In fact many a times he would distract his brother just to give me

time to slip unnoticed.

Their parents were hardly around, business trips allover the continents. That though didn't stop them

from spending time with their sons with every chance they got.

They were a caring couple, so much so, that they had asked me to tell them if their sons ever made me

uncomfortable. Of course I wouldn't do that, but it made feel good that someone actually cared.

Earlier that day, while I was doing the utensils back at their place, they had walked in and started

insulting me.

***Flash Back****

"Pathetic", Ray hissed. "You are just a useless good for nothing beggar" Bryon supplied.

'Did you wipe off the countertops thoroughly?' Bryson asked, moving closer to where I stood by the

sink.

I could only nod, not trusting my voice at that moment.

'Use your fucking words maid. ' The word maid was dragged, spitting it out with disgust

'Yes. '

'Good.' Ray answered, watching as his brother strode towards the refrigerator, an evil smirk etching it's

way on his handsome yet evil face.

He then retrieved mango juice in a glass and a bottle of cooking oil from one of the kitchen oak

cabinets. I watched as he poured some oil in the mango juice. I didn't know what he was up to until he

poured the entire mixture on the kitchen countertop, letting it drip slowly on the ceramic tiled floor.

His eyes then met mine, the evil smirk still evident.

'Have fun cleaning that. ' and with that he turned and left, his brother following him but not before he

called me a beggar again.

I stood there silently, biting my tongue enough to stop myself from speaking. I didn't want to cause

more problems. My mum had always said to me that in such situations silence was the best.

You would think that after many insults and name calling that I would get used to them. But no, it

always affected me.

The word beggar had hurt me. I never asked for anything, I didn't beg, I worked for everything I owned,

I was proud of myself because at 18 I was able to feed and cloth myself, even save a small amount. So

when Bryson called me a beggar, it really got to me.

The word affected me than the act of him pouring the mixture just to have me clean again.

***End of Flashback****

So here I was, still thinking about it, wishing that I'd been born in a wealthy family. I wished that my

mum had left an insurance for me, then I would be in college, with enough money to sustain me.

Had my mum been alive, then I wouldn't be forced to housekeep. Meaning I wouldn't have to deal with

the egoistic brothers.

I really couldn't join college, they were little to no scholarships around and my house keeping job

couldn't pay for fees and school supplies.

As much as the boys enjoyed drawing tears from me, I was jealous of them. Envious of the life their

parents had given them, in need of the love they shared as a family. Something that had been ripped

from me, leaving me completely and utterly alone in this world.

Would things have been different if my father was in the picture? Did he know that my mum was

already dead wherever he was? Did he even know that I was all alone and miserable? Would he give a

damn about me if he knew of my situation?

I couldn't answer any of those questions. One because I had never seen my dad and two because my

never talked about him. She wouldn't even let me ask her questions about him. She hated him and I

respected that. After all, she did raise me on her own.

Bottom line is, the small amount of money I was saving would someday be enough to start me off on

college. I didn't care how long that would be. one day I would stand up to Bry and Ray, one day my life

would be better. I thought to myself, and with that I closed my eyes and prayed to God to protect me

Tomorrow would be better, it was my day off. Oh how I loved Sundays.

The day I didn't have to deal with those assholes, oh thank the heavens.