Author's note: Each story in this series is complete and separate, with no plot or characters in common with the others. Only one thin thread connects them.
Many thanks to Wanting2BDesired for first editing and improving this story.
What can I say about Zyraphyre? Mere words cannot express the gratitude to this amazing editor for the skill, ideas and patience in shaping this story into something much better than it was.
The German version of this story is posted in German Literotica as
Zimmerreinigung by Egon Hoppe
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I do a lot of traveling on business, and wherever I stay, whether it's the only motel in a small town or a five-star hotel, I leave a tip for the maids who clean the rooms -- at least $20 for every night I'm there, no matter how cheap the room is.
One reason is because I realize that these women -- I've never encountered any men -- are among the lowest paid and hardest working members of the workforce, even with the tips. Though they know that not everyone tips maids, they take the job with the expectation that most hotel guests understand the unwritten rule.
At one time, I didn't understand the rule, but learning about it made such an impression on me that I've been a good tipper ever since, including restaurants, coffee houses, car washes and everywhere I see a tip box. It's a habit that's automatic.
My realization dawned on me early one morning at an expensive hotel in Seattle. I was awakened by an urgency between my legs. I automatically began to get up to go to the bathroom, but then I felt some hands push me back down on the bed.
That got me wide awake in a second. The room was dark, and I couldn't see what was going on, but I could feel.
I was lying on my stomach, and I felt hands pushing on my back and another hand pushing my head into the pillow, not hard enough to smother me, but enough to prevent me from yelling. I also realized what woke me up. It was fingers going into my ass.
The fingers were pushing something greasy into me. My body jerked, but I couldn't move much. The fingers went away, and something else was inserted. It went in smoothly through the grease, and it was uncomfortable as it climbed up my colon. It felt like it must have reached my intestines before it finally stopped.
A second later, I felt warm liquid starting to flow into me out of the tube that had been pushed deep inside me, and some fingers fiddling with my balls. The fingers released my balls a minute later, but the hands kept pushing me down as the liquid filled me so full it pushed my stomach out.
When the flow stopped, the tube was pulled out. The hands that had been holding me down rolled me over onto my back. Part of the pillow was still pressed into my mouth, but my eyes were uncovered. The lights in the room were on, and I could finally see who was there.
It was an odd group. They were all women dressed in hotel maid uniforms. Three of them had towels wrapped around their heads like Muslims, so all I could see was their eyes. Some were Hispanic, some Asian, some black and some white. They looked like they ranged in age between twenty and forty, and their body types were all over the place -- slim, stocky, curvy -- but none of them was fat.
One of the white ones began talking. She had a heavy Eastern European accent.
"Mr. Morris," she said, "please pay attention, because not much time. Now six-thirty, and some of us starting shift at eight. We put string around balls, like Yo-Yo string. If you not cooperate, we pull. Agatha show him."
One of the Latinas pulled me up so I was sitting. I looked down to where I felt something pulling between my legs. I saw my testicles moving forward slowly, away from my body.
They were being pulled by a string held by one of the Asian women. As she pulled, the white woman said, "Make move and Agatha pulls. Will hurt. If balls come off, you not man no more. So please relax, Mr. Morris, and listen.
"My name is Gertrude, and we are members from Liberated Maids of America. See our pin in shape of vacuum cleaner with LMA on it. Gertrude not real name. Code names in LMA, secret organization. Me from Lithuania. Founders of LMA from former Communist countries. We know secrecy.
"We grateful to be living with liberty and justice for all. We work hard so children go to college. We love Americans, most generous people in world. But some Americans like people in the old country -- mean, nasty, crooked. They not living under communism, so why they take advantage and cheat?
"Sorry you squirm, Mr. Morris. Warm soapy water want out. Two choices: one, you take Agatha's hand, and she lead you to the bathroom and help you get clean. Then come back and listen more.
"Other choice: If you try yell or anything else, we keep pillow on mouth and hold you on bed. We cover us in plastic. We lift you and carry you around room while soapy water do work.
"We hold you on bed, dresser, furniture, closet, ironing board, bathtub, shower, inside little refrigerator -- even inside safe. When everything inside you out, we make you lie on bed until shift start. We report manager strange smell from your room.
"Smell usually mean suicide, so manager call police. We put chain up so key not work. When police begin breaking door, we release you and leave through balcony.
"You explain police what happened. Maybe they believe your story."
Gertrude paused and put her face close to me and looked me directly in the eye. She looked dead serious.
"If you choose this way, Mr. Morris, I sad, because you never know why we do this or when we visit you again. You really uncomfortable now, twist body, bite teeth, sweat. You need decide quickly. Say 'toilet' or we start walk you around room."
As the pillow stuffed in my mouth was pulled out, I gasped and shouted "Toilet!" and ran with Agatha to the bathroom, barely making it in time. Agatha dampened a cloth and ran it back and forth across my forehead as I cramped and spasmed.
After what seemed like an eternity, she pulled me into the shower and washed me all over with the hand-held shower head as I held onto the support handle. I was shaking so hard I could barely stand.
When she had dried me, Agatha pulled me to the bed and pushed me down on my back. Gertrude began talking as Agatha lifted my legs and pushed them back over me so my ass was lifted up. One of the other women came forward and pushed some more grease into me followed by the tube again and more warm liquid.
"We do this one more, Mr. Morris," Gertrude said. "Where was I? Oh yes. Some people in wonderful America selfish and mean -- or not understand tips. Hotel pay us low to keep room costs down and expect tips to pay rest.
