Free Use Maid Pt. 01

Chapter One

Raisa

I sit outside the Cooper manor with my heart pounding in my chest. My eyes scan my generously padded resume as I attempt to memorize the years of fake job experience I've given myself.

I need the job badly.

"Thank you for taking the time to interview me," I say, practicing my smile in the mirror. I roll my eyes, wiping it away. "You sound like a fucking idiot, Raisa."

War-like sirens erupt beside me and I jump in the driver's seat of my car. I grab my phone and shut the obnoxious alarm off and take a deep breath.

"God, if you're out there, please don't fuck me on this." I exit my car, straightening the too tight pencil skirt I bought from the thrift shop's bargain bin, and head to the front door.

The manor is huge. Growing up in a double wide trailer, it's hard to understand how anyone needs this much space. But, then again, people with enough money to fund space exploration as a hobby don't always invest in what they need.

The Coopers can afford a dozen rooms they don't need. I shouldn't be complaining, anyway. If they had less space they wouldn't need a live-in maid to help them out. That would be one less job on the market to more than likely turn me away.

I ring the doorbell when I approach, marvelling at how intricate something as simple as a front door can be. It's huge, nearly as big as my beat up old Jetta, with dainty filigree etched into the wood. A large oval window covered in stained glass roses sits in the center. On top of the regular doorbell, they have a state of the art security bell with an intercom.

"State your name, please," a man's voice says and I jolt in place.

"Raisa Mitchel," I say, bending over slightly to look into the camera. "I have an interview with Mrs. Cooper at noon for a maid position."

"One moment," he replies.

I stand waiting, biting my lip nervously as I look down at myself to make sure everything is in place. I look nice, if not a little basic. My pencil skirt is plain black and the blouse I wear is flowy and floral, tucked in nicely to hide the missing button at the bottom. I couldn't find nice heels in my size at the thrift store, so I'm wearing a pair of my mom's old tattered flats. My brown hair is pulled back in a neat bun behind my head with a few strands hanging free to frame my face.

The door opens and a middle aged woman--at least I assume she's middle aged, it's hard to tell with wealthy people sometimes. Botox and cosmetic surgery have changed a lot.

She's dressed impeccably in clothing I assume costs more than my car, bleach blonde hair pulled up in a Stepford like bun on the top of her head, and bright blue eyes with small crows feet in the corners.

"Thank you so much for coming in on such short notice, Miss Mitchel. I'm Dominique Cooper," she says as she holds a perfectly manicured hand out to shake mine.

"It's lovely to meet you," I reply with a wide smile. I shake her hand, taking great care to be the perfect balance of strength, but meek enough to let her know she's in control.

She gestures for me to come in and I'm awestruck by the house. The interior is opulent with beautiful, modern furniture, gorgeous paintings and photographs lining the walls, and floor to ceiling windows with stained glass flowers that cast colorful beams of light all over the room.

Looking at how big the house is... how expensive the items I might be in charge of cleaning, I feel overwhelmed.

"This place is stunning," I say, mesmerized by the different rooms we walk by as she guides me to her office.

"Thank you very much," she says, flashing me a smile over her shoulder. "Adrian and I have worked with plenty of designers over the years to make it exactly what we wanted."

"It shows."

We walk into her office and she closes the doors, pulling a chair out and gesturing for me to take a seat. She sits beside me in another chair, not across from me as I expect. It makes the entire vibe feel casual and informal, which I'm sure is an interview strategy she planned to use.

I hand her the copy of my resume and she grabs it, putting it face down in her lap as she studies my face intently, ignoring it completely. There's a moment of awkward silence.

"As you can see on my resume, I don't have any home cleaning experience but--" I begin, wringing my hands nervously in front of me.

"Raisa, let me spare you the trouble of going through with this interview," Dominique interrupts. She takes a deep breath and sits up straighter, her blue eyes on my face the entire time. "You're very beautiful, do you know that?"

Oh no.

Living in LA all my life, I've heard countless stories about people getting into situations like this. I have a sinking feeling in my stomach about where this is going.

"Thank you," I say, my throat feeling dry. "But what do you mean, spare me the trouble?"

She clenches her jaw and sets my apparently useless resume on the desk.

"I always do my research on anyone I bring into this home. When I saw your resume I did my due diligence. You're a poor girl from the Inland Empire, dropped out of high school after your mom died and you've been scraping by doing odd jobs ever since."

My heartbeat quickens and I feel my cheeks burning. I guess I didn't need to lie so much on my resume after all.

"I'll be honest with you. This job isn't really for a maid position," Dominique admits. She pauses and studies my face. "Are you familiar with my husband, Raisa?"

I nod my head, gulping. Of course I am. Everyone in the greater Los Angeles area knows who Adrian Cooper is. Hell, I'd bet most of the world knows the name.

Newspaper magnate turned lucrative investor. He's wealthier than God and has always been controversial.

"My husband has... needs. He's a man who has been handed everything he's ever wanted in life and he doesn't know how to say no to certain urges." She pauses, eyes narrowed at me. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

I shake my head. "I'm sorry, no. If this is for porn or something, I'm not interested."

I need money very badly, but I don't think I have that in me. There's nothing wrong with it, but if my face is attached to that, I'll never be taken seriously as an actor.

"It isn't that," Dominique quickly says with a laugh. "Though, it's in a similar vein. My husband and I have had this longstanding arrangement for years, at this point. He's insatiable and I can hardly keep up with him in the bedroom. At a certain point I realized I had to adapt or he'd eventually knock up some intern and we'd have a scandal on our hands."

I nod along, not understanding how this is my business. Honestly, the idea of knowing something like this about Adrian Cooper scares me. They have the means to keep a secret and I don't want to be a loose end.

"Adrian has needs and I have good lawyers. We have an agreed upon list of people he can screw whenever he wants and it keeps him out of trouble and our names out of the tabloids," Dominique continues.

I'm catching on now and I can't help but awkwardly smile at her. That's why she wants me here? To be another name on Adrian Cooper's roster.

"I'm sorry, this isn't for me," I say, standing up to leave. She grabs my arm and I turn around to stare at her, prepared to yank it away.

"Five hundred thousand dollars," she says, dragging out every syllable.

That catches my attention. I can at least humor her.

"My mom is sick. She's probably dying and I have to go to Montana to be with her. I won't be here to watch Adrian and I need someone else to be my eyes," Dominique explains. I see a hint of desperation in her eyes and I can't help but feel for her.

She married a man she has to let sleep with other women because he can't control himself. I'm sure she didn't expect that when she said "I do."

"What about the other women he's allowed to sleep with?" I ask.

"They don't know the extent of our arrangement. They have their own lives, too. I can't trust they'd be able to keep him as satisfied as he needs to be." She exhales a slow breath and I take my seat beside her again. "The ad mentioned that this is a live-in position. You'd be here every day while I'm gone. If he goes on a business trip, you go with him. You do anything to keep him satisfied enough that he doesn't knock up some random stripper. I don't need a scandal on top of everything else I'm dealing with."

I take a beat to think over everything she's said. It's insane. Asking someone to come in for a maid interview to instead ask them to live in your house as a concubine for your husband is absolutely crazy.

What the Hell is this woman's life that this is an actual conversation she needs to have?

"I understand what you're looking for, but I don't know if I can do this." I suck my teeth, feeling my cheeks redden even more. "I wouldn't be good at it, anyway. I'm a virgin. The most I've done is kiss a couple guys. It seems like Mr. Cooper will need a lot more experience than that."

Dominique laughs and shakes her head. "You have a lot to learn about men like him. Knowing you're a virgin will make him want you more."

That doesn't make me feel any better.

"Look, I know this is a weird thing to ask, but I think you'd be perfect for this," Dominique says, leaning forward and grabbing a few stray strands of hair and holding them between her fingers. "You're 18, young and sexy. You're innocent enough to make him want to corrupt you, which means you'll definitely have his attention."

I shake my head and look down at my hands in my lap, a stone forming in my stomach the longer she goes on.

"What do you want to do with your life, Raisa?" she asks.

"I want to act," I answer, feeling as embarrassed telling her as I have anyone else who has ever asked me that question.

"You realize being an actor in LA isn't anything special?" She pauses and I nod my head, not understanding how this is supposed to convince me. "What will make you special is practicing your craft. You'll need time, which you'll have in droves working here. You'll need money for classes. A wardrobe for auditions, dermatologist to always be camera ready, an aesthetician to stay young forever. You won't have these things waiting tables."

I hold my breath as she speaks. She's right. She's painfully right. It's not an industry just anyone can make it in. You hear rags-to-riches stories all the time to sell you on the American Dream, but they're only stories. In reality, everything takes time and money.

It isn't every day that someone offers you half a million dollars.

Seeing my pause, she continues. "You'd be here for six months, maybe less depending on my mother's health. You'll have a black card to purchase anything you need or want while you're living under this roof. All your meals will be paid for, you'll have health insurance. You'll make a generous maid's salary with weekly pay and when I return, should you do everything I ask of you, I'll write you a check for $500,000 that you can use for whatever you want."

"And what are your exact terms?" I find myself asking.

"You'll stay here with Adrian every day and let him fuck you whenever he wants, however he wants," she says, her voice icely calm. "Consider your relationship with him as free use. You will always be ready to please him. The most important thing you need to keep in mind is that his eyes must not wander to anyone I have not expressly approved of."

"How will I know who that is?"

"I'll provide you with a list." She leans forward, a crestfallen look on her face that somehow breaks my heart. "This is one of the most important rules to follow, Raisa. My daughter, Scarlett--I had her years before I met Adrian--she's trouble."

"How so?"

She gulps and exhales slowly. "It's a long story. She's been in boarding schools most of her life and she hates me for it. Apparently funding the best education and supporting every whim she has means I'm a bad parent. Because of that, I've noticed certain behaviors that cause concern. As I've made it abundantly clear, Adrian has trouble saying no when a woman strikes his fancy. My daughter is a little older than you and very beautiful, so I know she's caught his eye."

My throat goes dry and I can't help but feel for this woman. I can't imagine living the life she does. It might seem perfect from the outside, but this is seriously fucked. She's got everything under the sun, yet she has to worry about her own daughter seducing her husband. That's a nightmare.

"That's another reason I can't ask just anyone to step in and do this. I needed, for lack of better terms, sweetie, a nobody." I nod my head and ignore the minor sting of her words. She takes a deep breath and looks at me. "So what do you say?"

I grit my teeth and think about everything this entails. Sure, $500,000 will be more than enough to live comfortably so I can focus on acting without worrying about paying bills. But is this how I want to get it? Is this how I want to lose my virginity?

I think about what's waiting for me back home. Dad is probably going to be sitting in front of the TV with a beer in hand grunting his hello, barely conscious by the time I get back. I'll have Ramen noodles for dinner as I do every night. I'll rewatch the same movies, studying the scenes without the ability to afford actual classes.

Without this, I might never achieve my dreams.

Am I really in a position to turn this down?

"I'll do it," I say, stunning myself at the words that cross my lips.

Dominique smiles and reaches a hand out to my knee to squeeze it. "Smart girl. Now, let's sign some contracts."

***

After several hours of going over non-disclosure agreements and various contracts regarding the final payment with extremely vague terms used within it, I officially start my new job.

To say I'm nervous would be an understatement.

Not only am I starting a new job, but in a matter of hours, I'll be meeting my new boss when he comes home entirely unsuspecting.

Dominique gives me a uniform that more closely resembles something you'd see in a Playboy magazine. I stare at myself in the mirror of my new room--which is, by the way, bigger than my entire trailer back home.

It's a short white ruffly skirt with a cropped blouse and white apron to match. Honestly, it's kind of cute. Especially with the ruffly headband that I tuck into my wavy brown hair. I leave it down as Dominique told me to. That's how Adrian would like it.

Dominique told me to wait in my room until she was ready for me, so I've just been sitting here anxiously on the corner of the bed waiting.

I heard the front door open, I heard Dominique walking by with, presumably, Adrian. Now I can hear their footsteps heading toward my door.

My heart is racing.

$500,000 is a lot of money. I keep telling myself that this is worth it.

A knock on the door. "Come in," I call, biting my lip nervously.

Dominique walks in with Adrian right behind her, an eager smile on his lips. I recognize him instantly. He's better looking in person than I thought he'd be. Very tall, broad shoulders, salt and pepper brown hair, a full beard, and dark brown eyes. He looks me up and down and I feel my chest tighten.

"You must be Raisa," he says, his voice dripping with something I can't quite place. His eyes linger on my cleavage and he licks his lips. "I have the best wife on the planet, don't I?"

He turns and looks at Dominique and wraps an arm around her with a deep laugh. Dominique smiles and kisses him on the cheek.

"Raisa, I told Adrian the entire deal. You can take the next few days to relax and get used to living here. Bring anything you need from home, go shopping, whatever. Adrian can start using you when I leave," she explains.

Using me?

When it's put so eloquently, it makes the entire situation a lot worse.

"The two of us are going to have a lot of fun," Adrian says, walking over to me and reaching a hand out to my shoulders. He tugs at them to turn me around. He studies every inch of my body like he's appraising a car. "It'll be better for me if you don't wear panties in the future."

He walks back to Dominique casually.

I feel like I'm in the fucking Twilight Zone. I knew the deal before he arrived, but seeing how cool and calm he is about it is jarring.

They say goodbye and I collapse on the bed, knees shaking. "What. The. Fuck."

I don't have anything back home worth driving to get, so I just change back into my interview clothes and hop in my car with my new black card and go to Target. I'll need some simple clothes and toiletries, but more than that I need to get away from the house.

The black card is truly limitless, I've been told. Still, I find myself looking at price tags and raiding the clearance section for clothes. I spend some time shopping for books and grabbing some Blu-Rays of movies I like, then head back a few hours later with a dozen bags.

I don't see either Adrian or Dominique when I enter so I just go straight to my room. I shower, then lie down for the night to get some rest.

The bed feels like a cloud and I fall asleep in no time.

I don't usually dream, at least I don't remember enough details to journal about them or anything. But tonight, I do.

I'm on a beach with waves crashing against the shore completely naked as I step into the water. My eyes are closed and I'm moaning, hands are all over my body, delicate fingers exploring every inch of my skin.

I feel intense pleasure between my legs and my breath quickens. I look down to see a face between my legs, slowly savoring every swish of their tongue. I squint my eyes to make out the details of the face but they're too fuzzy. It's almost like a mannequin going down on me.

The more intense the pleasure gets, my entire body lights up. My hands are on my breasts as I moan loud enough for the world to shake around me.

My eyes open suddenly as I'm on the cusp of an intense orgasm. I've had sex dreams before and I'm always disappointed when they end. I usually have to roll up a pillow and grind on it to ride out the rest of the wave and cum.

But right now... the pleasure doesn't stop.

My brain is hazy, soupy from sleep and a medley of hormones rushing through my blood. But I feel warmth between my legs, I feel movement, I hear someone else moaning.

The sudden realization turns my blood cold and I crane my neck to stare down at Adrian Cooper between my legs. His eyes are closed and he's fully nude from the waist down, his tongue outstretched as he explores my folds.

"What are you doing?" I ask, squirming away from him.

He holds me in place, his eyes opening slowly as he pulls his tongue away from my clit. I have to ignore the disappointment at the growing orgasm suddenly receding.

"I had to get a taste of you," he moans, pressing his lips against my thighs and kissing me gently. "Just knowing a sexy young thing like you was under my roof, hot and ready for me... I had to come and try you out."

I stare at him with my jaw hanging open as he holds his tongue out to brush it against my clit again.

It sends chills through my body, though they're not all unpleasant. He is undeniably good at this.

"Dominique said you couldn't do this yet," I say, pressing my hand to his forehead to push him away.

"She told me I couldn't fuck you until she leaves," Adrian clarifies with a devilish grin. "Besides, what she doesn't know won't kill her. I'm going to go slow with you, anyway. Break you in nicely before you take my cock for the first time. I want your tight pussy trained to take all of me right away."

I don't know what to do right now. Dominique would not approve of this. I know it. But Adrian is my boss, too. He's the reason I was hired for this to begin with. This is my job right here. I'm supposed to do whatever he wants sexually whenever he wants it.

Plus, it feels fucking amazing.