Maid For a Party (Arc 2 of the Taylor Maid Series) (Part 8 posted 4/18) (COMPLETE)

[jastes22]

Immediately, the cage felt too small.

The metal bars pressed into every curve and hollow of my body like a living thing, squeezing me into a humiliating, fetal curl. My long legs—built for powerful dolphin kicks in the pool—were forced apart and folded beneath me, knees jammed against my chest. The position spread my pussy lips obscenely wide, the cool night air kissing my dripping folds and my puckered asshole with merciless intimacy. I couldn’t close my thighs even an inch. Every tiny shift sent the bars digging deeper into my bare skin, pinching the soft flesh of my breasts, scraping my ribs, and grinding against my hip bones.

My lungs fought for space. Each shallow breath made my chest heave against the unyielding wires, ribs flaring uselessly. The world tilted; gray spots danced at the edges of my vision. Don’t you dare get sick in front of them, I begged myself. The thought of vomiting while naked and caged, while everyone watched, felt worse than any violation so far. Hot tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them back fiercely.

The midday sun had long since dipped, but the lingering heat of the evening still baked my exposed back and ass. I could already imagine the angry red lines the bars would leave across my skin, the inevitable sunburn painting my naked body in humiliating patches tomorrow. A hysterical little giggle bubbled up before I could stop it.

Should’ve put on sunscreen, Taylor. Idiot.

Caroline’s manicured fingers seized my chin through the bars, yanking my face up with bruising force. Her sneer was inches from mine, beautiful and terrifying. “What’s so funny, kitten?”

“N-nothing, Mistress,” I whispered, voice cracking. “Just… something stupid I thought of.”

Her slap cracked across my cheek. With nowhere to recoil, my head snapped sideways and bounced off the bars. The cage rattled violently. Pain bloomed hot across my face, but worse was the way my body jerked—breasts mashing against cold metal. A fresh gush of unwanted wetness slicked my thighs.

“Let me make something perfectly clear,” Caroline hissed, loud enough for the entire backyard to hear. “This is exactly where you belong. From the second I saw you strung up naked like a piece of meat that first night, I knew you were this kind of desperate, dripping slut. Say it.”

I nodded frantically, biting my lower lip until I tasted copper. “Y-yes, Mistress Caroline. This is… this is where I belong.”

The confession burned worse than the slap. Because deep down, in the darkest part of me that had been growing for two months, some twisted piece agreed. Every team practice, every “leadership meeting,” every night I’d crawled home sore and ashamed only to finger myself raw to the memories… it had trained me. Conditioned me. I was their slutty swim captain, their obedient pet, and the worst part was how my body sang at the knowledge.

Being caged elevated the humiliation to something primal. No longer just naked—I was *displayed*. An animal in a zoo. Faces pressed close to the bars, phones flashing, murmurs and laughter washing over me. Girls who had fingered me at soccer practice smirked. Boys who used to nod at me in the hallway now stared openly at my spread cunt like it was their new favorite toy. The cat ears, the black nose and whiskers drawn on my face… I looked ridiculous. Pathetic. Perfect.

Caroline’s hand trailed slowly down my spine, nails scraping lightly. I shivered hard, the touch electric against my overheated skin. “Let’s get you ready for your public debut, kitten.”

“Wha—ahh!”

Her finger slid into my soaked pussy without warning. The sudden stretch tore a moan from my throat that I couldn’t swallow. My forehead dropped against the cold cage floor as she pumped slowly, deliberately, curling to stroke that humiliatingly sensitive spot inside me. The wet, obscene sounds echoed. My hips twitched involuntarily, chasing her finger even as shame flooded my cheeks.

She pulled out with a wet pop, then pressed the same finger against my asshole—still slick from earlier. I whimpered as she pushed inside, the dual sensation of fullness and exposure making my toes curl. “So wet and ready already,” she cooed. “Such a greedy little pet.”

“Th-that’s not—!”

“Hush.” She slapped my ass sharply. “Good pets don’t talk back.”

I fell silent, trembling.

Caroline turned to the crowd, stepping aside so everyone had a clear view of my cuffed wrists pinned behind my back, my plugged ass, and my dripping, spread pussy. “Boys and girls, we have a choice to make.” She lifted two objects into view. I craned my neck desperately, catching flashes: something white and lacy, something black and ominous.

The crowd erupted into debate.

“First one! She’d look so cute!”

“Second one—bet it’ll make her squirt again!”

Arguments flew back and forth while my heart hammered against the bars. Every shout ratcheted my anxiety higher. My breathing grew ragged, chest heaving uselessly in its metal prison. Sweat trickled down my spine despite the evening chill. I was painfully aware of every inch of my exposed body—the way my erect nipples scraped the floor when I shifted, the constant tug of the tail, the humiliating drip running down my inner thigh.

A decision was reached. The crowd fell into eager silence.

Caroline stepped behind me again. I whimpered, trying futilely to shuffle away, but the cage held me fast. She spread my cheeks wider, exposing my tightest hole completely. Something thick, cold, and leathery pressed against me. I had half a second to realize what it was before it sank in.

“Unngghhh—!”

The butt plug stretched me mercilessly, forcing my ring to yield in one long, burning slide. Tears spilled freely now as my body accepted the intrusion. The base settled, and something soft and fluffy brushed the backs of my thighs—a tail. My tail. Caroline gave it a playful tug, and the movement shifted the plug deep inside, pressing against places that made my vision spark white with unwanted pleasure.

“You look adorable now,” she purred, stroking the fuzzy tail. “A real pet.”

One last touch: she grabbed my wrists, already cuffed, and secured them higher up my back with another set of leather restraints. Then she bound my shins, folding me even tighter. I was completely immobilized—ass up, pussy dripping, tail wagging slightly with every frantic breath.

Caroline stroked one hanging breast almost tenderly, rolling the aching nipple between her fingers until I moaned despite myself. She leaned close to the bars, lips brushing my ear.

“Just remember, kitten… you chose this.”

The words sank into me like stones. I had. In front of everyone. Public. Caged. Plugged. Bound. Displayed like the broken, dripping slut I’d become.

And as the first hands reached through the bars—curious, eager, merciless—I felt that dark, traitorous heat bloom low in my belly again.

[jastes22]

Hands started to explore me.

Soft hands, rough hands, hungry hands—dozens of them. They didn’t care who I used to be. No restrictions, no pretense. Just ownership.
I had been touched before, especially in the last two months of brutal, relentless training, but never like this. The cage made escape impossible. Every tiny shift of my knees scraped my skin against cold metal bars. Every twitch of my hips only pressed my body deeper into the forest of wandering palms. Fingers stroked down my bare spine in long, possessive drags, making my skin crackle. Others yanked my tail—hard—the thick silicone plug shifting deep inside my ass and sending humiliating jolts of unwanted pleasure straight to my core. Sharp, electric sparks flared with every tug, forcing my empty pussy to clench and flutter helplessly around nothing but aching need.

My heavy breasts swayed pendulously with every tremor, nipples already raw and puffy from earlier abuse. Rough thumbs and forefingers captured them, tweaking and rolling the sore buds until the stinging ache melted into hot, syrupy throbs that pulsed in time with my racing heart. Lower still, slick fingers parted my exposed pussy lips, stroking the slick folds before circling my swollen clit with lazy, teasing pressure. The sensations crashed over me like a violent storm—pleasure and pain and shame blending into one overwhelming roar that drowned out thought. I tried desperately to track them, to brace myself, but it was hopeless. As soon as one hand withdrew, two more claimed its place, groping, slapping, probing. The cage bars bit cruelly into my shoulders and thighs, a constant, bruising reminder of my total helplessness.

A large, calloused hand suddenly forced its way between the bars and shoved two thick fingers into my mouth. I gagged instantly, throat convulsing around the salty intrusion. The taste of my own earlier drool coated his skin as he swirled deeper, scooping more saliva like my mouth existed only for his amusement. When he finally pulled out, I coughed violently, strings of spit trailing down my chin and dripping onto my swaying tits. Before I could recover, those same wet fingers smeared across my flushed, burning face—painting my cheeks, my forehead, even my lips with my own mess. The degradation burned like acid.

And then—God help me—I found myself leaning forward as far as the cage allowed, lips parted, tongue flicking out, chasing his retreating hand like a desperate, starving animal.

Fuck.

The realization crawled over me slowly, then slammed home with sickening force. Heat flooded low in my belly, thick and molten. My clit throbbed painfully. My hips had begun rocking on their own, grinding shamelessly against the fingers still tormenting my dripping cunt. I pushed my ass back into the palms spreading my cheeks, silently begging for deeper pressure on the tail plug that stretched me so obscenely. Every nerve ending screamed with traitorous delight. My body was betraying me in the most public, humiliating way possible.

No. No, no, no—this isn’t me. I’m not… I’m not enjoying this. I’m Taylor. I was strong. Independent. Not this.

I bit my lip hard enough to taste copper and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to drown the storm inside. But the pleasure kept building, relentless, each new touch stripping away another shard of my dignity. A soft, broken moan slipped from my throat—raw, needy, pathetic. It sounded like relief. Like freedom. Like surrender.

“Oooh, looks like our girlie likes it!” Caroline’s voice rang out, bright and cruel, cutting through the murmurs of the crowd.

My eyes flew open in horror. No! That’s not—that wasn’t— I didn’t mean—

She reached through the bars and cupped my tear-streaked cheek, grinning down at me with intimate knowledge. “Of course, I knew you would,” she whispered, so only I could hear. Her thumb brushed my lower lip, still shiny with spit. “I’ve seen how you light up when you’re broken down. Someone who barely knew you now knows your darkest secrets.” She leaned closer. “That you need this. That you crave it.”

I blushed furiously, hating how right she was. The crowd had parted slightly to surround us, phones out, eyes hungry. She stepped aside, and the sea of hands swallowed me again.

I wanted to curl up and disappear, but the cage held me open. Someone grabbed my collar and yanked upward. I yipped sharply as the leather dug into my throat, forcing my head up. Jackson’s face filled my vision—smirking, cock already springing free from his jeans, thick and heavy.
I could only widen my eyes before he pushed through the bars and thrust into my mouth. The sudden stretch made my jaw ache instantly. He was salty, musky, hot. My lips sealed around him on instinct as he groaned and tangled his fingers in my hair, pulling hard. The rhythm was punishing, constant—his hips snapping forward, the head of his cock bumping the back of my throat with every thrust. Drool spilled freely down my chin, splattering my breasts. The cage rattled with each impact, bars digging deeper into my skin.

At some point, my brain simply… forgot. Forgot that I was naked, caged, collared, tail-plugged, and publicly sucking cock like a trained pet. I sank into the sensation instead—the burning stretch of my lips, the weight on my tongue, the way my throat fluttered around him. God, it felt good. Too good. Wet, filthy, perfect. My pussy clenched in time with his thrusts, leaking down my thighs.

Who the hell was I?

Jackson’s cock swelled. He groaned deep and came hard, thick ropes of cum flooding my mouth. I swallowed greedily, the salty-bitter taste sliding down my throat while he gasped and shuddered. When he finally pulled out, a thin string of cum and spit connected my swollen lips to his softening cock for a humiliating second before it broke.

“Thank you,” I whispered, unprompted, voice hoarse and broken.

Caroline grinned wide. “Good girl.” She reached in and pinched my cheek affectionately, like I was a well-behaved puppy. “Now, let’s get you to our next location. I’m sure the mall is very busy this time of day.”

“W-what?” The panic that blossomed in my chest was like an iron fist squeezing my heart. My mind reeled. The mall? As Caroline’s naked, collared, cum-stained pet? People would see me—my face, my body, everything. Photos. Videos. My life, my career, my reputation—destroyed in one afternoon.

Caroline looked at me, bored. “You said ‘public,’ right?”

“Y-yes, but—” My voice cracked. This wasn’t fair. Public had meant the party, the relative safety of familiar faces. Not a crowded mall where strangers would gawk, record, and ruin me forever.

“Are you calling me a liar?” Her tone sharpened.

I blushed crimson and fell silent, eyes dropping to my naked knees. Even with terror clawing at my insides, my pussy still throbbed traitorously. I couldn’t resist her. Couldn’t say no.

“Good girl,” she purred. She turned to the growing crowd. “Let’s get her on the truck.”

As hands lifted the cage, the full weight of my surrender crashed down. Taylor was vanishing—erased by every moan, every swallow, every “good girl.” And the worst part? Deep down, some broken piece of me was already aching for whatever came next.

*I'm probably going to end the story here, to avoid the story getting repetitive and move on to some other stories, considering how long this one brewed. However, if people are still interested and/or have some ideas, I can open it back up*

END

[Hooked6]

Wonderful story. I am sad that this is the end. I for one was hoping you would continue. I was so looking forward to finding out what happened at the mall!!

Hooked6

..

[Bucket]

I'm so pleased you decided to write a sequel. I've thoroughly enjoyed this just as much as its predecessor.

I feel as though this is your signature story/series, and I absolutely agree with Hooked - I sincerely hope to see so much more of the Maid For series and that it continues for a long time. I feel like there's so much more of Taylor's story to tell. All your other stories are excellent, but this one truly is the standout.

Fingers crossed for loads more!

[ElvenStrider]

absolutely desire more taylor, both the mall story, and maybe some backstory adventurers over the few months between original story and this one.