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Maids in Dubai: Simplifying Your Household Needs with Professional Services
In the bustling city of Dubai, maintaining a clean and organized home can be challenging. Fortunately, with the availability of professional maid services, managing household chores has become significantly easier. Whether you are looking to hire a maid for daily cleaning, childcare, or specialized tasks, Dubai offers numerous options to meet your needs. One of the most reliable ways to hire a maid in Dubai is through Tadbeer centers, with Excellence Center standing out as a leading agency.
Why Hire a Maid in Dubai?
Hiring a maid can dramatically improve your quality of life by freeing up time and reducing stress. Professional maids are trained to handle a variety of tasks efficiently, ensuring that your home remains clean and well-maintained. For families with young children, hiring a maid can also provide essential childcare support.
Tadbeer Dubai: A Trusted Solution
Tadbeer Dubai centers are government-regulated agencies that manage the recruitment, training, and placement of domestic workers. These centers ensure that both employers and employees adhere to UAE labor laws, providing a secure and reliable framework for hiring maids.
Benefits of Tadbeer Services:
1. Comprehensive Recruitment Process: Tadbeer centers handle all aspects of the recruitment process, from background checks to skill assessments. This ensures that the maids hired through Tadbeer are trustworthy and competent.
2. Legal and Administrative Support: Tadbeer centers manage all legal and administrative tasks, including visa processing, employment contracts, and medical insurance. This simplifies the process for employers and ensures compliance with UAE regulations.
3. Professional Training: Maids recruited through Tadbeer undergo rigorous training programs. This includes training in housekeeping, childcare, elderly care, and other essential skills, ensuring that they are well-prepared to meet the demands of their roles.
Excellence Center: Your Premier Choice
Among the various Tadbeer centers, Excellence Center is renowned for its exceptional service and dedication to quality. As a leading agency in Dubai, Excellence Center offers a wide range of services tailored to meet your specific needs.
Why Choose Excellence Center?
1. Extensive Network: Excellence Center boasts a vast network of highly trained and experienced maids. Whether you need a home maid for daily chores or a nanny with a nanny visa, Excellence Center has you covered.
2. Quality Assurance: Excellence Center maintains stringent quality control measures to ensure that all maids meet high standards of professionalism. Their continuous training and assessment programs guarantee top-quality service.
3. Exceptional Customer Support: The team at Excellence Center is committed to providing outstanding customer service. They offer ongoing support to address any concerns or issues, ensuring a smooth and satisfactory experience for both employers and employees.
Convenience of Online Maid Services
In today’s digital age, finding and hiring a maid has never been easier. Online maid services provide a convenient platform for browsing profiles, comparing services, and booking appointments. Many Tadbeer centers, including Excellence Center, offer online maid service options, allowing you to hire a maid from the comfort of your home.
Conclusion
Hiring a maid in Dubai can significantly enhance your household’s efficiency and your overall quality of life. With Tadbeer Dubai and Excellence Center, you can trust that you are receiving professional, reliable, and well-trained domestic help. Whether you are looking for a home maid, a nanny with a nanny visa, or specialized domestic services, Tadbeer centers provide a comprehensive solution. Embrace the convenience and peace of mind that comes with professional maid services and enjoy a well-maintained and organized home in the vibrant city of Dubai.
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Book A Maid On Rent In Dubai At Dhobee UAE LLC
A maid can significantly lighten your workload and alleviate household chores, allowing you to focus on other aspects of your life.
Are you looking to hire a maid in Dubai? Dhobee UAE LLC offers reliable and trustworthy maid services tailored to your specific needs. In this comprehensive guide, we'll explore the benefits of hiring a maid, the factors to consider when making your decision, and how Dhobee UAE LLC can assist you throughout the process.
Benefits of Hiring a Maid in Dubai
Time and Stress Reduction: A maid can significantly lighten your workload and alleviate household chores, allowing you to focus on other aspects of your life.
Convenience and Flexibility: You can schedule services to fit your busy lifestyle and customize the tasks according to your preferences.
Peace of Mind: Knowing that your home is clean and organized can provide a sense of tranquility and well-being.
Factors to Consider When Hiring a Maid
Experience and Qualifications: Look for a maid with relevant experience and certifications to ensure quality service.
References and Reviews: Check references and read online reviews to get a sense of other clients' experiences.
Legal Compliance: Ensure that the maid is legally permitted to work in Dubai and that all necessary paperwork is in order.
Communication and Trust: Effective communication and trust are essential for a positive working relationship.
How Dhobee UAE LLC Can Help
Comprehensive Screening: Dhobee UAE LLC conducts thorough background checks and interviews to select reliable and qualified maids.
Customized Services: They offer a range of services, including cleaning, cooking, ironing, and childcare, to meet your specific needs.
Transparent Pricing: Their pricing is transparent and competitive, with no hidden fees.
Reliable and Trustworthy: Dhobee UAE LLC is committed to providing exceptional service and building long-lasting relationships with their clients.
Conclusion
Hiring a maid can significantly improve your quality of life and provide valuable assistance with household chores. Dhobee UAE LLC is here to help you find the perfect maid to suit your needs and ensure a positive experience. Contact them today to learn more about their services and schedule a consultation.
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Palatial Villa w Ultra-Luxe Furnishings + Pvt Pool
View On WordPress
#5 bedrooms + Maid&039;s and Driver&039;s Room#5-bedroom signature villa in Frond E#7 Bathrooms#dining room#double glazed windows#Dubai#Huge walk-in closet#Insulated#opulent#Palatial courtyard#Palm Jumeirah#project#Smart Home Technology#Spacious Living#ultra-luxurious property#United Arab Emirates#Villa#villa in Frond E
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crystal champagne glasses — bodyguard!abby au
synopsis: when reader, the millionaires daughter can’t help but misbehave — Abby the no nonsense bodyguard is hired to live in the mansion.
♪ every man gets his wish — lana del rey (unreleased) ♪
cw: fem reader, mentions of money / money problems, overprotective parents, mentions of loss of a parent (not reader), daddy issues lol, sprinkle of mommy issues too, alcohol and drinking, tiny mention of being sick, reader working out mentions, brat tamer abby lol, size kink, reader cries and gets humiliated and angry a lot lol, degradation, masturbation, strap on sex, think that’s it?
an: i had so much fun writing this! this is the quickest i’ve ever written a fic, i think because i’ve been excited to write this one and planning it for ages! now, if you don’t like my writing please click off now. no one is forcing you to read my fics. to all the people who have been excited for this fic, ily and i hope you enjoy it! as always, minors + ageless blogs do not interact with this or any posts / fics of mine. you will be blocked! ♡
You weren’t a princess. You were not a princess. You wished you were, shit — maybe your parents would actually care about you. Unfortunately though, there was no royalty behind your name. Just two millionaire parents who would apparently rather be anywhere else but at home with you.
You had your own hobbies, friends, a life — back at home. But of course, if you had so much as wanted to leave the mansion to partake in such activities, such as socialising (God forbid!) you’d need an escort, a driver, secret security officers stalking you, creeping out all of your friends and more. After a while it just became… not worth it. So you stopped showing up, stopped hanging out with people — and understandably, your invite to meeting up with friends started to get supposedly lost in the post. Things get lonely fast.
Bitterness was hardly the word for it. You understood your circumstances and if you were anything it wasn’t ungrateful. Your father only wanted you to be safe, hence the dozens of hired body guards in and out (But you’ll get back to that in a moment, of course.) Your friends just assumed you didn’t wanna hang out anymore, hence the missed invites. You had only started misbehaving out of bitterne— no, not bitter. Pissed off. Rightfully.
You always felt dread when you saw the answer machine light up red with a new message from the only person who had the number — your father. Where on Earth could he be calling from this time? Perhaps lounging by the pool in Greece or dining at a rooftop garden in Dubai — experiencing the world and bravely taking a moment out of his incredibly busy day to drop you a patronising and vaguely threatening voicemail. Atleast he spoke to you, unlike your mother who’d much rather pretend you didn’t exist because, and you quote, the stress of your misbehaviour ‘gave her wrinkles.’ Your manicured finger hovered over the button before pressing down, huffing out your nose as you stared out at the morning fog over the grassy hills of your land.
‘Good morning darling, dad calling again. You keep missing my calls, which I assume is on purpose so I’m leaving you a message anyways. I’m currently in Amsterdam with your mother and I just caught wind of Malakai the bodyguard quitting ‘suddenly and abruptly’ according to one of the maids. I’ve told you once and I will tell you again, if you don’t stop harassing the guards and forcing them to quit you will be in serious trouble. I mean cut off completely, sent off to work in the city with no more than a shitty little apartment and no money. So, I have decided to give you one last chance. I’ve purchased a bodyguard to live in with you starting Sunday morning so you’re going to have to fend for yourself until then. I searched high and low for this one, apparently they specialise in poorly behaved brats like yourself — so I’m hoping if anything that will whip you into shape. You’ve been through five bodyguards this year and it’s February. I’m serious about my threats. Step a foot out of line and you’re done, your mother and I are deadly serious. I will be calling the new hire at the end of next week to check in on your behaviour. Do not let us down darling, you will regret it. Okay, that’s all. See you when I see you.’
You smile.
Oh, how sometimes things just worked out. A life of your own, with normality and struggle and freedom — no watchful eye breathing down your neck and no lack of purpose weighing down on you. Your father had presented you with the easiest task, piss off the new hire so that you’d be set free. A task you’d grown to perfect, having done so time and time again.
The crackle of wheels on the gravel path leading up to the mansion awakens you on the Sunday morning. You want to grumble, having gotten literally no sleep. You see, you were terribly afraid of the dark — and you couldn’t sleep without your guard having light the fire in the fireplace of your bedroom (The one use you found for the hired help.) You had no idea how to light it and didn’t trust yourself not to burn the house down — so you went without. Hence the awful nights sleep. Where were you? Yes, curious. Rudely awakened and curious.
Your short nightie does nothing to combat the cool morning chill as you get up from the bed, letting your bed covers slide off your body as you traipse over to your window. A black Range Rover, they’re all the same. All the same angry men that drive the same angry car, with the same angry build and the same angry face. You scoff at the memory of your fathers threat on the voice message, stating that this guard was to be anything you weren’t used to before. You knew it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle.
Except, you were caught off guard when the door opens. You watch a woman climb out the car, despite the vehicles spacious design she still seemed to unfold like she was inflatable as she climbed out — almost seeming too big for even a car like that. She was built, strong arms and chest, tree trunk thighs and veiny hands. You narrow your eyes at the black sunglasses perched on the bridge of her jagged nose, taking them off as she looks around with a serious expression. She was attractive, you’d admit — but in a way that made you cross. That stupid skin tight black t-shirt and black cargos and thick weighty belt around her waist told you everything you needed to know about her. The militant type, she was going to try and intimidate you with her seriousness. You smirk, seeing this as a challenge. She has no idea what she’s up against.
You rush down the spiral stairs at the sound of her lugging her bags inside. She flicks her braid over her shoulder to glance at you standing there analytically as she does so, biceps bulging as she lifts the heavy black cases into the centre of your foyer stood beneath the chandelier. She looked much too harsh for somewhere delicate like this.
“I take it you aren’t going to introduce yourself.” She speaks after a moment of sorting her bags, closing the front door to signify she was done bringing her things inside. You cling to the tall bannister, toeing the cold pristine marble floor, eyeing her and her things as if each bag had a bomb inside. She stands up to her full height, atleast breaching the 6ft margin and you squint, watching her stretch her arms to relieve herself from the weight of the bags. “Off to a great start already.” She retorts as you ignore her, her long legs stepping over a black duffle bag on the floor toward you.
“Why are your bags so heavy?” You ask quietly, less curious and more judgemental. Who did she think she was moving in here with all that stuff? She takes a long inhale, accenting the muscle in her chest as she places her hands on her hips. Her reply is calm and unbothered.
“I brought my weights with me, and lots of other things I need to stay in my condition. Do you have a name?” Her voice is velvety and more feminine than you expected. Your stomach gets hot and prickly at the sound.
“You know my name. I can bet anything my father told you everything about me infact.” You jut your chin up stubbornly. It’s her turn to analyse now, tilting her head a little to the side as she leans on her hip, eyeing you once over and then again.
“Yeah. Your dad was kind enough to tell me all about you and how you treated your past bodyguards. But when you first meet someone, you introduce yourself. So introduce yourself.” There is a slight bite to your tone and your eyes flutter a bit. You’re used to men being agitated with you, infact you thrive off it— but you’ve never had a woman guard before. Something about the harsh tone hurt you just that little more. Shit, maybe you just had mommy issues.
You mutter your name, eyes laser focused on her clinging to the last shred of dignity you had — but when she gives you a curt nod and an equally quiet ‘There you go’ it perishes in the wind like a dying leaf crumbling away for winter. She turns, looking around at her bags before reaching over for the smallest one. “I’m Abby. As you probably guessed, I’m your new bodyguard.” She walks over to you and holds out the bag. You look at her and then at the bag, and then back at her.
“What am I supposed to do with this, Abby?” You cross your arms with a raised brow.
“You’re gonna carry it to my new room for me. I’m a guest in your home.” She raises her eyebrows, waving the bag infront of you signally for you to take it.
You stare at her in disbelief, before laughing bitterly. “You’re right. You’re a guest in my home. So I’m not carrying shit.” You spin on your heel to stomp up the stairs, but she cuts you off by speaking calmly yet firmly.
“Then you can sleep in the dark.”
You turn back around slowly, wearing a frown that creases your brow. How did she know about that?
“I spoke to some previous guards of yours. Said you were terrified of the dark and needed a fire lit in your room every night. Y’wanna sleep in dark? Or you wanna help me carry my bags?”
You stare her down for a moment, weighing out your options. She’d already dominated the conversation by getting your name out of you so easily, and now she was winning again. However, you were exhausted just from one night of restlessly pacing with your light on — too afraid to turn it off and go to sleep. You needed your sleep. That being said, you scowl and snatch the bag from her hand, the leather of it slapping against your leg as you carry it up the spiral stairs.
“Atta girl.”
You clench your jaw.
The week begins, and as do your antics. Abby wasn’t easily wound up, but that only made you want to go ten times harder. She was a bodyguard, not a babysitter — but she was starting to feel like her duties were beginning to cross wires. She knew your game, knew you were aiming for something — she could see the determination in your eyes everytime you’d sass her back. So, she’d play you back. Not give into what you want.
Her first real duty came on a Wednesday when she was lounging in the living room watching some God awful 2000s police chase show, and in came you — tottering on little heels and a skirt so short and tight she could tell the colour of your thong beneath. Not that she was looking, of course.
She leant her arm on the back of the couch, eyes flitting over you as you rummage for the keys that you were sure had been left by the maid on the coffee table. “Going somewhere?” It comes out nearly as a scoff, smirk etched onto her face and it makes you roll your eyes.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Out with my friends. The ones that still talk to me.” You’re distracted, pulling your small handbag back up onto your shoulder when it slides off, free hand feeling around in a decorative bowl for the key set. Abby stares at you for a moment, which — okay, is a little indulgent. She wasn’t being a creep, she could just appreciate that you looked good. Before you could turn to throw a glare her way she was muttering an ‘alright’ and heaving her heavy, toned body up to stand and stretch.
You turn and look at her questioningly and she stops to return your gaze. “What? You think I’m just living here with you for fun? C’mon, if you wanna go let’s go.” She nods towards the door, but stops after a few steps when she hears you snicker.
“No thanks. I’m a big girl.”
She crosses her arms and the smirk that makes you wanna throw darts at her stupid face returns. “That right? You think daddy just hired me to hang out around the house, then?”
You stare at her, pursing your lips before exhaling through your nose wordlessly — walking towards the door in defeat. You just wanted to go out, it had been so long. You’re sure you could just ignore Abby.
She follows behind you, now swinging her car keys round her finger — so smug. “How were you planning on getting to the club? You live in the middle of nowhere.”
“Uber.”
It’s her turn to snicker, opening the front door for you and standing aside as you walk through. “Yeah. Okay. C’mon.”
Screw her. Because now, for some reason she was in your head.
Maybe you just had a few… weaknesses. You always liked your girls on the masc side, on the buff side — but that was a given. Who isn’t attracted to that, right? However, watching hot girls drive was something else, and Abby was being that something else. You know— hand on the back of your seat when she reverses, bicep bulging when she grips the wheel of her sleek car, the lights of the night time traffic illuminating the way her top lip curled upwards a little and bottom lip pouted. You felt a little relief, knowing it was one hundred percent the wine talking. The wine you’d probably drank a little too much of whilst you were getting ready, playing your music and singing along loudly just hoping it was annoying Abby (It wasn’t, she didn’t even hear.)
Ignoring her would start after the car journey you decided.
And you did, for the most part. Abby gave you your space, sitting a few seats away from your group whilst you had your fun — headache inducing squeals and brain numbing chatter over loud music and strong cocktails not quite interesting the blonde. She was driving, and working — so she couldn’t drink, just sat there all night bored out of her mind. She probably should have been monitoring how many drinks you’d had over the night, because soon you were stumbling off your seat to go and dance— and Abby’s hands were itching to pull your skirt down just a little, the hem climbing up to the swell where your thighs meet your ass. She sits back, just watching. She was here to protect you, not be your personal wardrobe malfunction manager — so that’s what she’d do. Sit back and protect.
God, did you always dance like this when you went out?
She felt her fist twitch on the table at the sight of your hips swirling, but she knew that was just a natural gay reaction. She should probably order you a glass of water, so you could sober up and tone down the sluttyness but she figured she’d let you have your fun for now— you may have been too far gone. Abby wished she was holding a beer or something whilst she stared across at the way you were grinding your ass into your friends crotch, the two of you giggling like idiots all hazy eyed from the liquor.
After a while you amble over to her, everything bouncing and spilling out but you clearly don’t give a fuck. Your guard is caught off guard when you come close, alcohol having decimated any concept of personal space as you lean over to speak to her where she’s sat, bent over with your hands splayed on her black jean clad thighs.
She tries to be subtle in the way she eyes you, her tongue peeping between her lips and eyes widening momentarily at the perfect shot of down your top. “I can’t hear you.” She yells over the music. You come closer and nearly topple onto her completely, Abby’s hands by nature resting on the back of your thighs as you now grip her shoulders. Briefly, she wonders if at a glance anyone thinks the two of you are a couple. She shakes it off ‘cos… you’re still a brat. Hot or not.
“I said, can I go to the bathroom or are you gonna follow me?” You pull back to make sure she’s seeing you attempt to pointedly raise an eyebrow at her, something you would have perfected usually if you were sober.
“Take a friend.” She nods to your most sober looking buddy and you shrug happily, pushing off her and grabbing your toilet partner and rushing off. She was kind of glad you were gonna be out of her sight for a moment, needing to cool off.
She wasn’t sure what happened after that. Abby was getting bored and tired, dropping the ball a little bit — and you must have been sneaking drinks from your friends when she wasn’t looking — because suddenly you were way too drunk, barely able to stand. Enough was enough when she watched you stumble over to the bar, heading to assumably get yourself another drink. Abby followed you, gently taking your arm and turning you around.
“Hey, no more. You’re blacked out.”
Your face screws up into this adorable little pout for a moment before the rage kicks in, brow creasing and fists clenching by your side.
“C’n dooo what I waant. Dompt tell meee what to do.” You thud her in the centre of her chest with your finger, slurring enough to the point where Abby was confident the bartender wouldn’t have served you anyway.
“No. Finish up, you need to go home.” She was stern, and as expected — this garnered the worst possible response, baring your teeth like a dog and digging your heels into the ground like you were about to pounce on her. You exploded into noise.
“Nnno! Fuck you you stupid securererty guard I can’t wait to get rid of youn’d be independent this is such buuullshi—” Your rampage was cut short by Abby sighing, squatting, and throwing you over her shoulder. Her free hand came up without thought, tugging your skirt down to not expose you to the world. You thrashed and yelled for a good ten seconds before giving in completely — by standers and your friends laughing as Abby marched you to the exit. You were asleep by the time she reached the car, and briefly woke up when she’d carried you to bed to demand her to light the fire place. The fear of the dark must have ran incredibly deep, interesting — she noted.
Abby thought that maybe you’d appreciate her cutting your drinks off and halting any further plans to embarrass yourself that night— but she came to learn that if she thought you were bad usually, you with a hangover was ten times worse. If waking up to the sounds of your loud upchuck wasn’t bad enough, you were a whiny, angry bitch relentlessly all day.
“I’m not your servant you know. Stop asking me to do things for you.” Abby walked in with a glass of water and Tylenol upon request, being met with a loud groan instead of a ‘thank you’.
“Do you have to fucking yell everything?” You complain, ironically — louder than her.
She was tired by the end of the day, beginning to wonder if the pay was enough to tolerate your brattiness. Abby had gained a reputation for dealing with difficult clients, perhaps diva-esque or ill-mannered, but often it wasn’t anything a stern talking to couldn’t fix, often intimidated by her height and build enough to shut them up after a few quips. You were effortlessly becoming one of, if not the most difficult and tiresome clients to crack, but she was determined. If Abby was anything, she wasn’t a quitter — which is why when your father called to check in on you, she told him you’d been good as gold, which earned her a glare from you when you’d overheard the whole thing on the way to the bathroom.
You were back to your regular level of shitty behaviour the next day, less whiny and more sarcastic and bitchy which she could tolerate. However, after a month had gone by Abby was finding the irritation harder and harder to control— especially since you had developed an ever so charming habit of putting on your headphones every single time Abby tried to tell you to do something or talk to you in general.
“Like I told you, I’m a bodyguard — not a babysitter. Stop leaving your—” She bounded into the room, stopping when she saw you look her in the eye and pull your headphones over your head, pressing play on your screen to start your music. Abby stares for a few seconds, taking a breath, telling herself to walk away. Be a bodyguard and nothing else. She ignores this, wound up— and moves to stand in front of you, clicking her fingers. Cheekily, you point to your headphones — mouthing a faux-apologetic ‘sorry!’. The blonde scoffs, wondering why she’s entertaining this in the first place and reaches up to yank the headphones off your head, but freezes at your sudden wide eyed yelp.
“Don’t touch me I’ll tell my dad and you’ll get fired!” It’s rambled out, fast and premeditated — like you’d thought of it already and had been waiting to put it to use. Abby glances down at your alight screen, noting the music as paused and wonders if you were ever playing music or was just doing this to bother her. She lowers her hand, because — well, she’s not an asshole — instead turning her palm upwards in gesture to hand them over.
“Headphones. Give them to me.”
“No.”
“Give them to me or I’m not lighting the fire in your room tonight.” She stares you down and you sulk, shoulders dropping and brows furrowing in devastation. Abby would have felt bad if you weren’t such a menace.
You stroppily yank the headphones off your head and hand them over, muttering profanities furiously under your breath as you turn away from her, sprawled on the couch. Your guard nods, disappearing to put them away before leaving you be — heading to the kitchen to make her afternoon smoothie. The sound of her chopping fruit sparked rage in you all over again at how at home she had made herself, and after a minute you were storming in again— bare feet slapping the cold tiles.
“Back for more?” Abby is calm now, content as she focuses on slicing into a banana.
“You can’t threaten me with my fears you know, that’s emotional and psychological abuse. You’re taking advantage of my fears to be in control like — like a coward. Trust me I studied psychology out of a book, I know my stuff.” You stand beside her ranting as she raises her eyebrows with a calm smile, nodding as she listens and finishes up chopping her fruit, beginning to load them into the— your blender.
“Oh? Smart girl then huh?” She teases and you huff, jutting your chin in the air confidently with an ‘mhm’ before hoisting yourself up onto the kitchen island counter, deciding to stick around for a while to pester her.
“Very. You could probably learn a thing or two from me.”
Abby twists her body half around in amusement, a mocking expression of being impressed adorning her attractive face. She closes the lid to the blender, keeping one hand on it as she speaks.
“‘That so? Go ahead, tell me what possibly I could learn from you, smart girl.”
Ignoring how ‘smart girl’ made you feel in your underwear, you only a manage a “Well first of all—” before she’s turned the blender on, the loud whirring masking any sound coming from you despite your attempts to yell over it for a few seconds. She nods teasingly, as if she was listening to what you were saying and you huff, giving up. You were usually a master in being annoying, but Abby was giving you a run for your money.
You hop back off the counter, muttering a ‘Big blonde stupid asshole.’ as you storm out the room and Abby lets go of the blend button, snickering to herself and yelling out a non committal ‘I heard that!’ after you.
The following day she had taken you to buy groceries after you’d complained that you’d wanted to do it yourself — Abby, following you around as you loaded up your cart, every so often remembering your duty to annoy her and hitting her with something along the lines of ‘I want my headphones back.’ which would be met with a disinterested ‘Tough luck.’ on her end. You couldn’t believe that she’d been living in your home for one month and you still hadn’t gotten under her skin. Perhaps that’s why the next day you’d let your guard down.
It was the first sunny day of March, the grassy hills in which the mansion sat on still harbouring that frosty bite to the air from winter — but pink blossoms had began to spring on the bushes and trees and the sky was blue, which instantly lifted your mood just that little bit.
You were curled by the large window that morning, still in your pyjamas and holding a mug beneath your chin, gazing out at the bright grass. When Abby had entered the room, she was surprised to hear you gently comment that “The weathers nice today.” — a rare sentence that wasn’t defying or insulting her. Abby looked over to you, noting your peaceful demeanour and deciding to carefully toe the line.
“Do you wanna… go outside today?” She suggested, something the two of them could possibly do together. She almost grimaced, waiting for you to curse her out like usual but instead you paused quietly for a few seconds before responding.
“I can introduce you to the horses.” With that, you hopped off the window seat and disappeared to get dressed. When you returned, your hair was in tidier condition and you wore a dress made for summer with only a thick knit cardigan over the top. She itched to tell you it was still way too cold to dress like that, but figured she didn’t wanna aggravate you before you’ve even made it out the door. Today was the day Abby would get through to you.
You were quieter than usual, assumably worn out and in higher spirits due to the sunshine. You’d received the horses as a gift on your sixteenth birthday — but due to the cold weather and outright depression you hardly rode them anymore, instead making sure they lived a healthy and luxurious life on your land and fed the best foods by their handler (mainly out of guilt.) Abby could tell you’d regret your outfit choice as the two of you walked along the pathway through the lush greenery outside, pulling your cardigan tighter around your body, head tilted as you watched the birds fly over the pond.
“What are your horses names?” She conversed lightly, stuffing her large hands into the pockets of her black bomber jacket.
“Cinnamon and blondie.” You answer quietly, before speaking up a few moments later. “Don’t judge the lack of creativity I was sixteen when I picked the names out.”
The pair of you reach the barn and she huffs a quiet chuckle out her nose, watching you pick up a brush as you approached the brown and blonde horses. “Hey, I think those names are perfectly fitting.”
She wasn’t sure why she wanted you to like her so badly all of a sudden. She partially thought it was because if you did you’d make her life and her job easier — but… no, it was more personal than that. You’d deprived her of seeing your pretty smile so much that she felt almost awestruck at the sight of your peaceful and joyful expression as you gently combed Cinnamons mane. She caught herself smiling as she watched.
The two of you talked. Like actually talked without hurling insults or rolling eyes. You sat on the hay, watching as she fed Blondie a carrot. Abby’s teeth were always so white and perfect, perfecting an already perfect smile. Perhaps you were in a good mood, because the thought of calling her perfect didn’t quite irritate you as much as it usually would.
“Have you even ridden a horse?” You’re still bashful about making regular conversation as you pluck at the hay from the bale you sit on.
“Nah.” She shucks off her jacket, the air in the barn balmier and muggier than the outside. It’s hard to not let your eyes flicker down to her strong arms, so you don’t deny yourself.
“Not even as a little girl?” You question and she chuckles a little.
“I didn’t have horse money.” There’s a pitch of longing behind her tone and you tilt your head, wondering about her upbringing. She senses your inquisition and glances up at you as she continues to stroke the horse. “I didn’t have much money for pretty much my whole life. It was actually why I got into the bodyguard industry. Good pay.” She shrugs one shoulder like it was nothing.
“Did you get to go to public school? Like in the city?” You lean forward with your elbows on your knees, chin balanced on your palms in intrigue. The way you said it sparked some amusement in her, ‘get to go to public school’. Like to you it was some sort of luxury.
“Yep. Got the bus everyday too.” Her eyebrow twitches up with a smirk, turning to walk towards you with her jacket in her hand. Whilst she expects you to pick up on her playful tone and perhaps roll your eyes, you continue to stare up at her in awe— an air of innocent curiosity around you that made her suddenly fight the urge to run a thumb over your cheek. She stood over you, placing her jacket by your side and you preened a little at how big she looked above you like that. Part of you felt mad at yourself for having developed a crush, knowing it was interfering with your plans — but you were touch starved. Really touch starved, so you allowed yourself a little yearning for your strict but not so strict bodyguard.
You clear your throat before speaking quietly. “You’re so lucky.”
At this, she scoffs, dropping down to sit beside you. Your skin felt a little warmer when her thigh pressed up next to yours.
“I wouldn’t say that. Would have traded lives with you in a heartbeat.”
You turn to her with a frown. “My life was boring. I didn’t get to do sneaky, crazy teenager things. I went to a small private school and had my small group of friends there and… we couldn’t do anything without dumb bodyguards riding my coattail. The only time we got privacy was in the girls bathroom, and even then if we took too long they’d come knocking.” You complain, pushing your shoe into the gravel.
“Oh, I see. So you didn’t get to be a bratty teenager so you’re making up for lost years now.” She spoke it with a smile, but assumes she took it too far as along came your infamous eye roll, shuffling away from her on the seat as the irritation snuck back in.
“I am not a brat.”
“And I’m not your bodyguard.” She challenges gently with a smile, nudging her knee against yours. You look at her with a stubborn pout and her smile doesn’t falter. “You’re not really a brat. I can bet you’re a sweet girl that just wants attention so you’re acting out.” Didn’t your father say she was supposed to be tough? Please. You say nothing. Your heart races in your chest but you’re too stubborn to say a word. Maybe you’d let your guard down too much. Roll your eyes again, that’ll do it.
After a moment you look away, not because you were still mad but more so because you were flustered. Sweet girl rung around your head like church bells.
“I know you wanna get rid of me.” She begins and you tense up a little. Way to ruin a nice morning.
“And?”
“I know why. You think you wanna be independent and get away from your parents. You have this… idea of living on your own in the city. Am I right?”
You’re prideful, facing away from her with your chin up. “You’re not wrong.”
She sighs out a little chuckle, shaking her head as she leans forward with her elbows resting on her thighs, head turned towards your profile. “You don’t want that life. Trust me. I’ve lived it and it’s hard.”
“Whats hard is having no freedom, no social life, being followed constantly because no one trusts you to make sensible adult decisions.” You snap at her, turning to look her in the eye.
“So you talk to your dad, try and see eye to eye. Not just… pack up and move out like you’re running away to the circus.” She reasons, like it’s just that simple. Her eyes dart across your face as she sees the rage build, infuriated by the assumption that your father was at all the type to negotiate.
“Theres no just talking to my father, Abby. This is it. This is my life unless I get out of here. I can’t live this way forever.” You raise your voice a little, frustrated at her lack of understanding. “I don’t know what your parents are like, but I’m sure you wouldn’t get it.”
She smiles in that way that people smile when they’re mad or upset, tilting her head down to look at her hands for a moment as she inhaled, shaking her head with a speechless chuckle when she exhaled. “I never knew my mom, and my dad died when I was sixteen. I don’t have the luxury of arguing with my dad like you do. Sorry.” She sarks and your face drops, which sparks a little guilt in that secretly soft heart of hers — because truthfully there was no way you could have known, and she could tell by your face you were immediately mortified. You stumble for words after a moment.
“Look. I can’t forgive my father for practically imprisoning me. We… we have a complicated relationship and I think we always will. He says he cares and then does nothing but ruin my life. But… he’s still my dad. No one should ever have to go through losing their father, especially not at that age. I’m… I’m sorry Abby. I can’t imagine what that’s like.” You speak quietly and she listens, an unreadable expression on her face as she does so. When you finish, her eyebrows flicker up ever so slightly.
“Huh.” She breathes, quietly.
“What?” You furrow your brows, sympathetic expression lingering.
“So you are capable of basic empathy. I had no idea.” She let’s a smile slip and your face drops into one of deadpan.
“Bye.” You go to stand up but she laughs and grips your arm, her strong but somewhat affectionate hand not allowing you to leave her side. You sigh with an irritated pout, facing away from her again. When her chuckles die down, she speaks again, her hand staying wrapped around the flesh of your arm.
“So what’s your plan then. You inevitably get me fired, you move into the city by yourself and then what. Where are you gonna work? You won’t be able to afford living in an apartment by yourself so who are you gonna live with?” She fires at you, realising she’s still gripping your arm and letting her fingers trail down a little before leaving your skin all together. You hate how it leaves goosebumps in her wake.
“I’ll use my family name to get me a job somewhere. As for roommates I’m not too sure, I suppose I’ll have to start looking online.” You smirk, glancing at her out the corner of your eye. “Perhaps I’ll just find a girlfriend first who will let me move in with her.”
The mention of a girlfriend makes heat prickle behind Abby’s ears. She had a sixth sense for these kind of things, most of the time able to tell when someone preferred the company of the same sex — mainly down to her own preferences, and she could tell almost immediately with you. However, it was always pleasurable to get the confirmation that she was infact, once again correct.
“Oh yeah? You think anyone else is gonna put up with that princess attitude but me? You better start working on your game.” She jests, and the mention of her tolerating your princess ways caused you to bite down a little on your bottom lip.
“What, you’re saying you’re not charmed by me?” You joke back for once, turning to face her to bat your eyelashes. She chuckles softly, eyes lingering on you for a moment too long before looking away and pushing herself up to stand by pressing her hands into her knees with a quiet grunt.
“Can’t say the insults and tantrums did it for me. Good luck to you though.” She allows a smirk to flit back onto her pouty lips before she thrusts a hand out, allowing you to take it so she could help you up, once again proving to you both that she was actually more than happy to tolerate that princess attitude she speaks of so poorly.
By the next day, your head is back in the game. All this talk of moving out set you straight, and whilst bonding with Abby in the barn certainly set you multiple steps back — you were back to your old self in no time, dead set on getting her to budge so that you could be free’d from your fathers watchful eye.
You eye your search bar on Google, sprawled on your front on your bed with your laptop open infront of you, having just typed ‘Roommates for sale backspace Roommates in the city friendly and not weird’. As you scrolled through the unhelpful results, your door opened — Abby standing in your doorway.
“Jesus do you ever fucking knock?” You curse, glaring up at where she stands in the doorway wearing her usual tight black tshirt and thick belted cargos and boots.
“Good to see you’re back to your usual self.” She sarks with a dramatic eye roll as she leans on her hip, refocusing (which took an extra second because you’re just wearing a little skirt and top today and lying on your front is making her think things.) “I’ve gotta go get my car serviced so I’m dropping it off at the garage thirty minutes away. You think you can survive an hour without me here?”
You’re not looking at her, continuing to scroll as you wave her off with just a distracted mumble causing her to shake her head and tsk followed by a chuckle as she pushes off her feet, disappearing down the hallway. “I won’t be too long. Stay out of trouble, smart girl.” She calls to you, before you eventually heard the sound of the front door shutting and then her car rumbling around the fountain infront of the entrance and out of the large iron gates. Finally, some peace and quiet.
However, after around thirty-five minutes, you had to admit you’d grown bored. You were home alone, and the room-mate search was coming to just about nothing so you had given up all together for the time being. You flop onto your back on the bed, huffing. Where you’d usually get up with the boredom and go to bother Abby until she argues back — you couldn’t. So, you figured you’d turn to the next best thing, listening to music whilst you do a light work out.
You didn’t like working out when Abby was home, because — as if she were a moth to a flame, she couldn’t help herself from interjecting and gym-rat-splaining everything you’re doing wrong and how to improve. The last time she walked in on you doing pilates, you nearly chucked a weight at her head because she started dishing out unwarranted advice. You knew she did it just to bother you, wearing that shit eating grin on her face when she’d lift a bicep and flex it, stating that it was ‘living proof that you should listen to me.’
You thought also that maybe a workout would help burn off some of the… frustration you woke up with. Perhaps it was the tension ridden barn conversation the two of you shared yesterday, a reminder of your starvation for touch, maybe you just had a load of tempting dreams that you weren’t remembering — but you woke up with your cunt aching and hungry to be filled. You figured this was the real reason behind your bad mood returning with such a vigour, and you couldn’t get yourself off, not wanting to give Abby the satisfaction of walking in (without knocking, no doubt) on you with your legs splayed out and fingers deep inside your wanting hole, probably accidentally moaning her name— or whatever. You couldn’t say the thought of doing so didn’t make things worse though.
When you rolled off the bed and onto your feet, you took a moment to collect yourself at the frustration of remembering that Abby still had your God-damn headphones somewhere, having stashed it away due to you using it as a prop to taunt her. You cursed her out, and then cursed yourself out for getting your beloved headphones confiscated before sighing. If Abby wanted to invade your privacy by not knocking, and taking away your personal items — you could invade her privacy by going into her room and searching for them. Perhaps you could even return them before she was back.
It seemed like a sound plan, so you padded down the hallway until you were met with the door to the guest bedroom where she had been residing. You push the door open, for some reason your stomach twisting in excitement at the small thrill of being sneaky— something you rarely got to experience. The room was clean and tidy, and smelt like her. You push further into the room, looking around and spotting a few of the black shiny duffel bags she’d brought along with her — the rest of her things assumably packed away into the closets. You kneel, unzipping the first.
Your hand sticks inside, rustling about only to be met with metal plated weights and an exercise mat. You huff, zipping it back up and trying the next one. You spot them instantly inside, but tsk when you struggle to pull them out — the headband portion of the listening device tangled with something else. You pull them both out, pulling them apart as you do so and gasp when you realise what you’re holding. A strap on. A harness with a dildo attached.
You drop it, nearly falling onto your back like a spider had just leapt out at you— your eyes widening. Placing your headphones aside slowly, you lift it again — observing it. Why on Earth did she have that with her? Your heart jumped slightly in jealousy, wondering if she was planning on bringing someone over and using it on them. Was she fucking someone, just a few doors down from you? In a moment of sick depravity and curiosity, you slowly bring the shaft beneath your nose— inhaling to smell if there were any… remnants of usage, or at best cleaning products to signify it had been used and cleaned. Your face feels hot in shame as you do so, and it just smells like new plastic. It looked new too. You pull it back, looking at it. It hadn’t been used at all.
“God, Abby.” You whisper as you turn it side to side, harness tickling your leg as you grip the girth of it. It was black and shiny like everything else she owned, roughly 7 inches with veins and thick— just as you expected from the broad bodyguard. There were balls attached too, and you run your fingertips over them gently, lightly pressing down to feel it’s texture. As you do so, translucent white liquid gathers at the tip of the dildo, a small trail of it running down the side of the shaft obscenely. You gasp lightly again as your cunt clenches hard without warning. A breeding strap, now you had only ever seen those in porn videos from your phone screen late at night with a hand down your pyjama shorts.
You’d been fucked with a strap before, of course. You’d had been allowed romantic relationships in the past, and your parents of all things were surprisingly cool with the gay thing. Of course, your father had to background check them first and practically set up play dates with their family (Undoubtably another wealthy family) However, the times you’d experienced with them were all short lived, fumbly and overall incompatible. It was clear that you and your past two partners were there purely to experience some sort of relief from their sexual frustration — which resulted in just rolling around the bed whilst your parents dined together downstairs, them gliding their smaller strap in your tight pussy as you clumsily rut against eachother. The experiences were somewhat fun and naive, but you never got to cum or experience real pleasure and satisfaction.
Oh but Abby, you could tell she had to have experience. She had been out there in the world, seasoned and a few years older than you — and when you look like that, with that kind of body, there was no way she wasn’t having girls in and out her apartment door like some kind of cock carousel.
You felt your wet folds pulsing with need to be touched, and you bit your lip — wondering how much time you had as it seemed to have majorly escaped you. The idea of fucking yourself with your bodyguards strap without her knowing had you wetter than you cared to admit from just your own daydreams in your bed, and you’d decided fuck it, consider it pay back for putting a dent in your plans.
You were squatted on the ground still, but now your skirt and panties were draped messily on the sleek wooden flooring by your side — excitedly holding the strap by the dildo wearing just a tight little crop top and nothing else like you were Winnie the fucking Pooh. It was humiliating in the way that made you reach down, checking and confirming that your slick had gathered across your lower region— pent up and built up from the past few hours of general frustration.
You had no idea how that beast was meant to fit inside of you, but you’d grown desperate — eagerly pulling it downwards and hovering over it, smearing the pearly liquid from the tip around in your slick as the harness clattered against the floor. You let out a sigh, only to realise you were trembling from the adrenaline of doing something you shouldn’t. Biting back an excited grin, you push in slightly — the stretch making you wince, brows furrowing. You let out a harsh breath, whispering ‘Fuck’ to yourself as you do so, just the tip stretching you beyond what you’ve ever taken before. You balance on the flats of your feet, toes curling against the ground and eyes squeezing shut as you try and push in further, the thickness making you quietly cry out, unable to take it properly.
Tears sprung to your eyes, half at the stretch and half in frustration at the inability to fit it inside of you. “C’mon, please.” You whine quietly to no one, walls spasming around the plastic, which now was slick with your arousal dripping down it. You were beyond turned on, to the point where you were starting to feel a little pathetic. You tried to ease up, reaching down to rub your clit to help you along as you take a deep breath, mind trying to ease itself — visions of Abby touching you instead of your own hand, moaning quietly and frustratedly at the thought of her strapping you.
You try and push it deeper, and it seems like your walls are about to let up — but the door flies open and so do your eyes. Your world comes crumbling down in humiliation, your ears ringing and face burning hot; Abby stands before you, eyes wide and jaw slack with pink cheeks.
Your first thought is to pull the dildo out, and the size of it makes you let out a quiet pained whine as you do so. She’s frozen, and the rage takes over you. It’s the most comfortable emotion in a situation like this.
“I told you to knock!” You yell, grabbing your skirt and throwing the dildo to the ground.
“This— this is my room!” Her voice is high and defensive, still processing what she just saw as everything happened so quickly. You pull your skirt up and grab your panties off the floor and to make the embarrassment worse — you burst into tears before you’ve made it out the door, storming past her and slamming the door to your room. The final blow was realising you’d left the headphones behind.
Abby watches you until you’re out of sight before turning her head slowly back to the strap on laying abandoned on the floor, a single drip of what looks like your arousal beside it. Jesus, she thinks, letting out a long sigh and running her hand over her face as she enters the room fully — letting the door shut behind her. She slowly lowers herself into a squat, thick thighs bulging in her cargos as she inspects the scene. Abby lifts the harness, before grabbing the dildo by the suction end and sucking in a hitched breath at how you’d soaked it only a little way down. Your poor pussy, she thinks as her lower region warms guiltily at the imagery now the shock had worn off. “Was a good attempt.” She mutters to herself, tossing the dildo onto her bed and sighing, standing up and stroking beneath her chin in thought. She worries, wonders what you must have thought about her seeing that she’d brought a strap on into your home. You must’ve thought she was some kind of perv, right? How was she supposed to bring you back from this?
As you lay face down on your bed, crying embarrassed tears for an hour straight— you wonder if it would have been less embarrassing if Abby had followed you into your room rather than leaving you to storm off on your own. She probably didn’t want to see you, or speak to you for the matter of fact. You sit up, wiping your cheeks furiously — if that were the case, you had the right to be mad at her. It was her fault, she took your headphones which spiralled into this whole thing. Was it better to let things fizzle out and be awkward? You couldn’t think of anything worse, so you finally rose to your feet again, cleaning up your appearance with your jaw clenched before storming back down the hallway. You were going to finish this, and make her leave for good.
You didn’t bother to knock, because when did she bother? You pushed the door open so hard it bang loudly against the wall, and Abby turned around from her dresser — going through some envelopes, totally unphased.
“I’m taking my headphones!” You practically holler, an accusatory finger pointed right at her. She places the envelope aside as she leans against the dresser crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows.
“Okay.”
“And my father will be receiving a call! Yes, I will call him and tell him that you’re rude, you push boundaries, and you don’t ever fucking knock on any door!” You raise your voice even louder, counting off your fingers as she stares at you.
“Again, this is my room and I didn’t know you were in here.” She explains slowly like you were stupid, which only enrages you more.
“This is my house!” You shriek, waving your hands and she pushes off the dresser, stepping towards you.
“Is it?” She frowns. “Do you even pay any rent?”
You falter for just a second, but it’s enough for her to see and nearly smile, which only builds your emotion. “This is my families house. On your very first day here you said that you were a guest in my house, so act like one. My. House.” You step closer to meet her in the centre of the room, eyes boring up into hers as she watched you, unimpressed, tongue in her cheek.
She couldn’t lie, you were hot when you were mad. Infuriating, sure. But hot. Hot in the way where she wanted to shut you up, make you cum until you weren’t fighting back — just babbling aimlessly, frown fully melted from your face. Fuck you until you learnt a lesson. The thought made her stand up a little straighter.
“Yeah?” She tilts her head daringly, and enraged you step up closer, bodies nearly touching just so you could yell in her face.
“My. Hou—” You go to repeat yourself for emphasis but you’re cut off by the feeling of her hand gripping your cheeks, smushing them. When she speaks, it’s calm and menacing. You stare up at her wide eyed.
“You’re not gonna talk to me like that. You’re embarrassed, sweet girl — and I feel for you, but don’t you ever yell in my face like that. You understand me?” She tilts her head further, eyes on you. You’re humiliated, knees knocking into eachother at her calling you sweet girl whilst berating you and you frown, still panting — all hot faced and furious. She uses your cheeks to make you nod and you groan. “Good. If you wanna talk about what happened, let’s talk. But before you come up here and start accusing me of shit, remember that you came in here searching, and you found that,” she turns your face so that you were looking at the strap on laying on the bed. She stays facing you, eyes browsing the side of your face now. Your eyes widen a little at the sight, the memory of using it replaying in your head. “And you decided to use it without asking me.” She steps back a little, eyeing you (not even bothering to hide the hunger anymore). “Okay. Say your piece.” She gestures with her hand and you collect yourself, pulling in a shaky breath.
You admit, the confidence from your tone had vanished. “I was just trying to look for my headphones. I wanted to work out.” You explain and she nods, encouraging you to go on. “You… you brought that into this house, why?” You point at the toy on the bed, the embarrassment starting to slip through again in your pathetic tone of voice.
“Its not your business what I bring with me in my own bag.” Her velvety voice was quick to answer and your brow creased, running out of reasons to shift the blame onto her.
“Well… you can’t bring things like that here it’s — it’s inappropriate.” You internally curse yourself out for stuttering.
“You didn’t seem to have any complaints an hour ago when you were trying to stuff it inside yourself.” She shrugs like she just couldn’t help it from leaving her mouth and in your embarrassment you turn to leave again, walking towards the door. She follows and reaches over your head and shuts it in front of you before you can, grabbing your arm and turning you around so that your back was pressed to it now as she looms over you. “What? Am I wrong?”
“Abby.” You go to complain, but it comes out as a weak whisper.
“Is that why you did it? Maybe you were trying to get caught so you’d have a reason to get all mad and go batshit crazy on me, huh? Still going ahead with that bullshit plan of yours to send me packing?” Abby theorises and you lower your gaze, head tilted towards the ground as you thought. It wasn’t that, you weren’t brave enough. You were genuinely just being disgusting and horny and got yourself caught — which to you was all the more shameful. She knocks your chin up with her knuckle, making you look up at her again. “Or maybe you wanted to get caught so you could be punished. Is that what you wanted? ‘That why you been such a fucking brat?”
“Not a brat.” You huff, though you couldn’t deny it any further than that.
“You know what a brat is? Girls like you,” She poked a finger into your chest. “Who wanna be put in their place so they act out. I’m starting to think that’s just what you need.”
You try and push off the door but she’s blocking you to do so, bodies too close. “Do you really think I’d come in here and yell at you just because I wanna get spanked or whatever?” You bite back, proud of the comeback until she roughly spins you around by the hips so your cheek was pressed to the wooden door, back a little arched. She takes a fist of your skirt and yanks it up, holding it to your lower back making you gasp — fully exposing your bare rear. She chuckles and you wanna die.
“I dunno, didn’t even bother putting on a new pair of panties before coming up in here. Seems to me like you knew what you were doing. Lost the bass in your voice too, smart girl. Where’d all that anger go?” Her hand is gentle when it cups your ass, feeling the meat of it in her hand. You could not believe this was happening. You were mortified. Soaked, but mortified.
You try to fight back with your words, but it’s coming out in little huffs and embarrassed pants at the feeling of her grabbing your ass. “I’m— m’gonna tell — gonna tell on—”
“You’re gonna tell on me?” She snickered. “Are you gonna tell the full story? What you were doing on the floor when I walked in?” She purs in your ear and you can hear her smiling. She’s sick.
You say nothing, because if you’re being honest you’re giving up on your resolve— the feeling of her hands on you just melting your anger away like ice. “No I didn’t think so.”
She gives your ass a light slap, just enough to jiggle it and make you whimper at the suddenness before turning you back around, eyes glancing between yours seriously. “You wanna know what I think?”
You sigh and nod, not trusting your voice at this point.
She gently takes you by the arm and walks you over to the foot of the bed, picking up the strap and holding it. “I think you need to clean my strap for me.”
The way she says it makes you feel hot and bothered, and you go to reach for it to shamefully disappear and wash it in the sink but she holds it out of your reach, raising her eyebrows playfully as she stares you down for a moment. “Not like that.”
She brings the strap down, stepping into the leg holes of the harness before pulling it up and adjusting it to fit her by the hoops at the hip. You watch, trembling — the sight of her standing there with a huge cock something you had only dreamt of, making you squeeze your thighs together. You hated yourself for how weak willed you’d become.
“You can clean it up that smart mouth of yours.” She smiles simply before placing both hands on your shoulders and pushing you down slowly to the ground. She sits too on the edge of the bed, spreading her thighs wide to accommodate to you between them. She wanted you to suck her off? Now that was just degrading. You pursed your lips, trying and failing to ignore the rush of slick seeping from you.
“Abby. Come on.” You whisper and she looks at you for a moment, making you shrink where you were kneeled before leaning forward, gently grasping your chin again, her face millimetres from yours.
“It’s the least you can do.” She threatens before leaning back on her hands, nodding towards her cock. She nearly folds and leans forward to kiss you when she sees the big, sweet, doe eyes you give her — so far removed from your usual glare. If she knew that all she had to do was dom the good girl out of you, her previous month would have been a lot easier.
You gingerly grip the shaft with your hand, bringing your face towards it. God, it smells like you still— to think that only an hour ago you were on the ground trying to shove it inside yourself. Your brows furrow as you kitten lick the top, before suckling on the top with a low moan in your throat gaining confidence. “Good girl.” She praises as you push down a little, sucking harder to the point where you can taste the breeding liquid. You’re not quite sure if it’s meant to be consumed but you don’t care, you don’t care about anything at this point.
You wanna push down further, but you’re struck with a thought and pull off her with a pop— glaring up at her with some of your leftover brattiness.
“What’s that face for?” She hums. You struggle to find your words.
“You… We’re…” You huff, sulkily and she watches the glimmer of longing pass over your face. “You’re making me suck you off and you haven’t even kissed me.” You finally get it out and she smirks, but not totally in a mean way — more so adoringly. Smushing your cheeks again with her hand, she pulls your face in, meeting you in the middle as her cock brushes against your chest as her lips meet yours. It’s a hard, wet, sloppy kiss with your cheeks smushed but it’ll do, and when she pulls off you with a loud smack she roughly rubs her thumb beneath your pouty bottom lip to remove the residual saliva. “Now get back to work.”
She holds back a giggle at the sight of your own pleased smile as you go back down, licking up the sides and cleaning off the plastic — groaning at the residual taste of you clinging to it. This was cruel, wicked even — and you were enjoying it.
“Thats it. Knew I’d be able to find better use for that mouth. Must be tired from running it so much.” Her voice is gentle despite the degradation and it fills your brain with a hazy, muddled fog — not sure how to feel anymore. You pull up for air after taking as much as you can, and as soon as your lips wrap around the dick again, Abby can’t help herself from pressing her hand down on the back of your head gently, muttering a “‘Can do better than that, pretty.” as you gag around her. This seemed to be the first straw in what broke the camels back.
It had dawned on you, half way through sucking her off that after this she was likely just to throw you out on your ass, back to your room to take care of yourself. Getting you on your knees infront of her was her way of winning once and for all, and this was only one last humiliation to shut you up completely. You hadn’t realised you were in your head until Abby was pulling her strap out your mouth, tilting your chin up to her as she leant forward once more. “Hey. Where’d you go just now?”
You try and break away, trying to catch her tip in your mouth again, jaw a little agape and tongue peeping out but she grips your chin more firmly, shaking you a little. “Hey. Look at me.”
“S’nothing Abby. Just lemme—”
“Did I hurt you?”
“No.” You swallow thickly, shaking your head.
“Then what?”
You suck in a deep breath. “Are you gonna chuck me out after this? Are you… are you only doing this to embarrass me?” She stares at you in perplexity as she watched your mouth turn down, emotions catching up with you as you squeeze your eyes shut — two fat tears sliding down your tears.
“Hey, no.” She’s still a little confused, but she wipes your tears away with the back of her hand anyway. She sighs, pulling you up by the arm and sitting you on her thigh. “Okay. Maybe this kind of thing isn’t for you. That’s okay.”
You wipe your nose, a little calmer and clearer headed now. “I was enjoying it. I think I just… I feel like no one cares about me. It just caught up with me that’s all. We can get back to it.” You go to stand up off her but she holds you tighter, making you look at her.
“I care about you. I stupidly, really care about you.” She speaks sincerely, and you stare at her analytically before realising that she actually truly means it. Abby cares about you.
She pulls you in gently this time, lips locking against yours. It’s not mean, or sarky, or trying to tease you — it’s a real meaningful kiss and you just melt. All that anger, all that competitiveness just melts off you like ice cream on a hot and hazy day. You wrap your arms around her neck, letting her lick into your mouth and dominate your tongue with her own, pulling it in and sucking on it making you shift on her thigh and whimper. You think about grinding down on her thick, cargo covered thighs and how good that might feel after a month of staring at them — but before you can, she’s easing you to lay on your back on the bed.
“Can show you how much I care about you. Maybe we can start over, how’s that sound?” She whispers into the space below your ear, pressing a wet kiss there and you let out a shaky huff, nodding. “Gonna need your words though. That’s how this works, sweet girl.”
“Please show me.”
“Like that, good job.”
Her hands look large, but they feel even larger — especially when they’re beside eachother, running up beneath your top— fingertips brushing over your hard nipples as she tests the waters, smiling against your skin when your back arches up into her, a sensitive whine quietly passing your lips. She slowly drags up your top, pushing herself down your body to pepper kisses down the centre of your chest, letting out a quiet groan of her own when she grips your tit with her hand, massaging the plush flesh. “M—outh” You choke out in a pleasured haze and she chuckles, eyebrows jumping up in amusement as she adjusts her position.
“Should have known you’d know exactly what you want.” She teases before flattening her tongue over the bud of your nipple, pulling back to blow cold air on it to harden it making you wince sensitively. The smile barely leaves her when she dips down, wrapping her pouty pink lips around the bud and sucking, soothing her tongue over it and digging her teeth in ever so slightly, letting them scrape over your nipple when she pulls away. “Fuck, so pretty.” She grits her teeth, reaching up and grabbing it in her hand again letting it jiggle beneath her palm.
You buck your hips again, which directs her attention to your lower regions — forcing her to depart from your breast to continue her journey down your body. She sits up, both hands encasing your waist, rubbing thumbs into your lower ribs gently. “Anyone ever eat your pussy?”
Your breath hitches in your throat at the bold question and your eyes flutter open, not quite remembering when you closed them. “No.”
She grins, like that was just the answer she was after and climbs back down— kissing your stomach and then flipping your skirt up so she could kiss your pubic mound. You shiver, a little insecure but filled with desire more than anything as her hands slide up between your legs. “Open these up for me.” She whispers, and her hot breath wafts over your needing cunt when she reveals it, pulling back to look at it.
You feel your chest and face get hot as she stares— dark eyed and hungry straight at your most private area. “So fucking pretty.” She whispers, thumbs sliding either side of your fat lips and pulling them apart, her brows furrowing. “You always get this wet? Jesus.”
You don’t answer, because you don’t quite have the guts to tell her that you don’t remember the last time someone had aroused you this much, to the point where it’s taken over your body and brain entirely.
She leans in, and you expect her tongue to dart out first — but she spits, directly on your clit making you jolt with a whimper, then chasing it up with the flat of her tongue as her thick arms wrap around your thighs, jaw practically unhinging as she starts eating you like her life depends on it.
You moan, loudly and with less shame as time passes now, grinding your hips up into her face — which she matches by pinning them back down to the bed, only pulling away to briefly grab a cushion from the bed and slot it beneath your hips to elevate you slightly — so fast and expertly you barely realise she’s done it before she’s back to mouthing at your crotch.
“Feels so good!” You whine and she chuckles against you, the vibration of which sends shockwaves through to your stomach. “Need you to fuck me.” You mutter, more to yourself but she acknowledges it anyway, the hands that were massaging your hips sliding between your thighs.
“If you want to take my cock I’m gonna need to prep you. You saw yourself, s’never gonna fit with how tight you are right now.”
With this new information, you feel her finger tips sliding through your soaked folds gently as she suckles on your clit relentlessly. You whine, trying your best not to clamp down when she slides in her finger, and then another. You were in heaven, panting up to the ceiling as she fingerfucks you, l your hand sliding down to encase itself in her golden hair — glowing from the sunset streaming in through the window.
She moans as she tastes you, brows furrowed and eyes clamped shut like she could feel every movement of her tongue herself. “Gonna give you one more okay? Need to stretch you— still so fucking tight.” She speaks against you and all you can do is nod, in fact at that point you’d probably let her do anything she wanted to you. It was such a relief to drop the act, to just relax and let her take care of you.
A third finger prods at your entrance and you wince as she slowly slides it in, looking up at you to watch your expression — brows pinching and eye twitching at the feeling, walls wrapping tightly round her thick fingers. “There you go, pretty girl. Took that like a champ.” She kisses your hip bone before getting back to work, slowly and experimentally fucking her three fingers in and out, curling them up to grind against your upper gummy inner wall.
“Feel like I’m gonna cum, Abby it’s — it’s so much.” You shake, toes curled so hard they’d gone white and she hums kindly against you, pulling off your clit again with a loud spitty pop.
“I know baby, I know. Let it out.” She whispers, rushed and syrupy like she was too on the precipice of a moan. She moves her tongue in quick successions around your clit as you start to buck and ride against her fingers, a clammy sound matching this — your wetness creating music against her knuckles as you fuck against them. “Cum, smart girl, cum.”
You do, and you’re so full it’s like there’s nowhere for the cum to go — and therefore you feel like you might explode, suddenly letting out loud cries and whines as you shake and jerk on the bed, only to be held down by Abby’s strong arms. She moans too, because you’re dripping down her wrists and her chin — seeming to have a never ending quantity of cum as she laps it up. You taste exactly how she thought you would.
You can’t even tell she’s stopped because your legs are still violently shaking for a minute, coming down from your orgasm felt like it would never end— but you were grounded by the feeling of Abby’s lips on your cheek, sliding her hands under your back to hold you. “I know, it’s okay. Good job.” She cooes into your hair, silencing your nonsensical babbles. She doesn’t push you to move onto the next thing, just stroking your skin and pressing her lips to your skin until you were calm.
Abby feels tugging down below, and looks down between your bodies to see your hand wrapped around her shaft, tugging towards you as your legs fall open again limply. She winces like she can feel it, and she swears she can when you lazily run your thumb over the tip that had drizzled some of the pearlescent liquid out from all the movement. She watches you play with the spillage between your fingers, before bringing it to your puffy cunt, spreading it through your folds and whimpering at the sensitivity.
“Shit, babe.” She sighs out, the room feeling suddenly much warmer. “You wanna continue?”
“Mhm. Was prepping to take you, remember?” You brush the loose strand from her braid hanging over her cheek out of her face. The gesture is intimate, like two lovers who have been together for a while. You almost feel embarrassed again but she turns her cheek and kisses your palm.
She nestles the pads of her fingers into your folds again, sliding around in your arousal and you sigh out at the sensitivity, the urge to be filled returning from its brief satisfaction. “Well you’re definitely wet enough.” She smirks in disbelief, and you can’t believe that there was a time where you would have rolled your eyes at such comments — now only doe eyed and lip bitten as your legs fall open wider. Her fingers are replaced by her strap, sliding up and down — collecting your wetness along it, a whimper leaving you when the tip nudges against your swollen clit.
“Think you’re ready for me?” She asks and before she’s even finished the sentence you moan out a quick and desperate ‘yes!’ making her laugh, keeling into herself with her chin to her chest for a moment. She looks cute and you want to kiss her again. In due time, you think. “How long has it been since you last got fucked?” She continues sliding her strap up and down. Abby secretly thinks she’s stalling, because she wants this closeness to last.
You shake your head breathlessly, trying to clear the fog in order to answer her simple question. Why was she asking questions at a time like this?
“Like — nine months maybe a year?” You answer and she nods, understandingly.
“It’s no wonder you’re so tight. This is gonna be quite a squeeze, yeah?” She looks you deep in your eyes, like she did every time she wanted you to really listen.
“I know, s’okay.” You breathe, and at this she takes your hand in her larger one.
“S’gonna be big. You can squeeze my hand if you want. Deep breath in.” She instructs and you slowly inhale as she pushes in, your hand squeezing hers as you clench around her thick length.
The “Fuck” you let out in a breathy groan is obscene and borderline pornagraphic, which makes Abby fight the urge to bottom out completely and shove her cock inside you fully all at once, but she’s patient, her breath hitching as she reassures you.
“I know, I know.” is all she can say as she pushes in further.
“W—wait.” You tense up a little and she freezes with no hesitation, letting you adjust to the stretch as she drops kisses onto your jaw until you were ready. This happened a couple of times, and she’d oblige to your wishes each time you halt her until she was fully seated inside you.
You felt like the air had been punched out of you, Abby was so deep. “Hows that?” She whispers.
“So big.” You mewl.
“Taking it so well. See, we got it all in the end.” She praises, quiet and gleeful watching you blissed out beneath her.
“Y’not getting paid enough for this, he’s not paying you enough to deal with me.” You babble into her shoulder in regards to her deal with your father, legs trembling around her hips.
“You kidding me? He’s paying me to fuck his daughters pretty pussy, think I’ll be okay.” She scoffs into your neck, sucking wet kisses into the skin there, hips still not moving as you adjust.
“S’not why he’s paying you.” Your nose turns up and she chuckles before lifting her face to hover right above yours, lips occasionally brushing. She begins to move her hips and you both gasp at the feeling.
“How about… instead of arguing with me… you shut up and take my fucking strap.” She whispers temptingly and you go limp again, apart from your hips which twitch against her movements letting her grind her strap in and out of you slowly.
“Oh my god!” You cry, letting go of her hand to wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her into you to connect your lips. She lets you whimper against her and suck on her bottom lip whilst she concentrates on finding that angle. She knows she’s struck gold when your legs jerk around her before your heels dig into her ass.
“Faster please Abby, please faster!” You sound deranged, at the point she wanted you all along — cockdrunk and desperate without a care in the world. She clenches around nothing at the thought of just keeping you this dumb all the time.
She speeds up on command, hips smacking against you now as she pulls away to watch the way your tits bounce beneath her. “Oh baby, you’re fucking taking it.” She pants, impressed at how quickly you’ve allowed her to really go in on you. She reaches between you to rub your clit and you squeal, tears springing to your eyes. “Yeah? Want me to rub it? S’it that good, pretty girl?”
“Yes! Please! I— I can’t Abby it’s too — Abby please I wanna— need to cum!” Your hands are curled into her t-shirt adorably which only makes her go harder, practically punching the sounds out of you like a squeaky toy each time she thrusts. You feel yourself teetering over the edge once more, abused pussy relentlessly sucking her in with obscene wet noises attached. Before you can release, your hand reaches down to cup the balls of the strap. “Want it inside, please Ab— please want it inside me—” You ramble and she catches on, and as you tense up, letting out a pained whine as you cum, she slides her hand on top of yours, pressing down to empty the cum lube inside you. The feeling of the warm liquid spurting against your cervix makes you shake, sobbing uncontrollably suddenly as you ride it out.
“There you go, good fucking girl. You like that don’t you? Fuck, letting me breed you like this the first time we fuck? You dirty fucking girl. Such a pretty fucking girl.” She’s babbling too, unravelled by the beauty that was you cumming the way you did. She knew she was good at fucking, but to make someone cry like that was driving her insane.
You’re floating when she pulls out, the two of you breathless and fucked out. Effortlessly, she pushes her hands under your arms and drags you further up the bed until you’re laying against the pillow and she drops down besides you, pulling you into her chest, t-shirt slightly damp with sweat. You listen to her heart thundering in her chest, and it lulls you into a sleepy and relaxed zone, pulling your thigh up over her hip with her help, her thumb stroking the crease where your ass and thigh connects.
“Did so good. The sounds you make are so pretty.” She whispers like she was trying to lull you to sleep. You shift, breath stammering in your throat and nearly choking you when your used pussy glides over her shaft— the veins and ridges catching against your clit making your hips jerk on her, unable to stop yourself from slowly and feverishly rubbing down on her as you breathe heavily in the quiet room.
“Want more, sweet girl?” She cooes, hand running down the back of your head to cup it lovingly.
“Too sore.” It comes out muffled into her t-shirt, aimlessly rocking your hips.
“That’s alright. Just keep… keep doing this.” She relaxes into the bed, kissing your forehead and letting you please yourself, grinding into the mixture of your juices and the fake cum soaking the both of your lower halves. It was messy and bordering on gross, but made your needy clit throb all the more. You were truly insatiable. Had it really been that long?
She sighed in pleasure at the feeling of you grinding against her, the position making her harness press deliciously into her own clit, pleasing you both. Perhaps she too could get off from this.
The sun had gone in, and the room had grown dark. But this time, you weren’t afraid — infact the growing inkiness of the sky was the last thing on your mind— safe, warm and dumb in Abby’s strong arms.
Maybe you’d let her stick around.
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2. Glorified Cult Leader
Dubai
"So Daniel, do you have any questions?"
The reporter stares at Louis in near astonishment, removing his glasses to rub his aching head.
"About the woman with the face full of teeth? Yes, I have fucking questions! You had that one in disguise this whole time" Daniel motions to Armand with his glasses "Should I assume there's a demon lady pretending to dust shelves in a sexy maid uniform somewhere around here?"
Louis crosses an ankle over his knee with a slight laugh, Armand's arm loops over the back of the back of the sofa and rubs his hand. "No. Nothing like that. Patience Daniel and good things will come, let the story take you where it needs you to be."
___
Paris
The Rusalka moves gracefully through the vast library shelves, fingers gently grazing cover after cover. Heeled shoes moving after the other creating an echo off the marble floors. Her head raises, no longer lost in thought- she sniffs the air.
"You can come out, you're not nearly as sneaky as you seem to think you are."
A tapping of leather soles against the floor much like her own sounds from behind her.
The well-dressed leader she met the other evening walks out from behind a shelf, he leans against the wood shifting his weight onto one hip, placing his hand in his coat pocket with well-rehearsed grace.
Her eyes trace over him and then roll “If you’re trying to kill me I wish you luck, it’s not easy.”
“Who says I wish to end your life?”
“Your kind is territorial, I haven’t had the best experiences in the past, can you blame me for running? Not to mention your man chased me, not a very good first impression.”
“Santiago is not my man.” His stoicism falls face curling in disgust at the accusation.
“Right, you’re paired with the bookworm.” Her eyes shine and something swipes sideways, blinking slowly like an alligator.
“You’re no longer deemed a threat. Siren. But you’re perspective, we could have a place for one of your kind in the coven. So long as you behave of course.”
“Wrong.”
“Hmm?” His eyebrows perk up and his head tilts.
“Not a siren. Similar, but I don’t sing. And I don’t lure unfaithful men to the depths. I just eat the evil ones, it’s a lot less dramatic that way.”
“You get to define what evil is?”
“Yes. You, vampires, are so strange…you love each other so purely, even when you hate. It’s so obvious, but you keep screwing each other over? I can’t tell if it’s a self-preservation instinct or not. I think you’d be a lot happier if your covens were big love fests instead of the whole master-servant dynamic.”
Armand scowls, fangs dipping slightly with a cat-like hiss. “You think yourself omniscient? We need structure, solitary vampires either wither by their lonesome until they meet the flame or sow chaos in their wake. Humans always search for more, money, power, love, knowledge, more. Why hold on to this part of your humanity when you can live content? A part of something better, the coven offers such.”
The rusalka laughs and her melodious voice has a sharp screech-like tinge to it- “Content! Oh, so great coven leader!” She cries clasping her hands together, pressing them against her face. “Who surrounds himself with sycophants, Truly the best representation of a content being, yeah? You vampires want just as much as I do. You’re not built to be lonely, companionship is in your blood. So don’t preach to me about contentment you glorified cult leader.”
Armand steps closer, face inches from the rusalka towering over her, he removes his sunglasses- tucking them into his chest pocket he looks deep into her eyes and calmly with a sneer says “You’re vulnerable. It makes you weak. We are not the only coven in France and you will not be able to run forever. Unless of course, you aim to end your studies so quickly after arriving.”
“How’d you…?”
“I may not be able to read your mind but this place is flooding with your peers. It’s quite the story you’ve concocted for yourself, the best lies are rooted in some truth are the not?”
“My vulnerability is my power, just as yours could be. Screw your rules and your laws, going behind each others backs to make things end up your way. Just to end in failure. May it be a century or a millennia from now, but still failure.”
“Then let me offer you this. Join the coven. Prove to them why the laws should change.”
—
Dubai
“Is this my cue?” Daniel had been imagining this voice since it was first described to him but the reality was something else altogether. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to pick up a maid’s uniform. I know how much you like the Univision style.” The woman rounds the furniture flashing a smile at the two vampires and perching herself on the arm of the journalist's seat.
“You still smell of him.” Armand’s lip curls and Louis looks to the tempered windows for a distraction.
“I didn’t have time to swim yet either. You’re the two avoiding him. I made no such promise, I’m not involved.”
“Wait! Please tell me she isn’t taking about-”
“Lestat.” Louis interrupts as Daniel looks to the Rusalka with a look that borders on horror. “There’s an agreement in place. When she’s here she doesn’t discuss him, when she’s there she won’t discuss us.”
“It's a horrendous deal, really.”
“HOW DOES SHE EVEN KNOW LESTAT?!”
Louis stands and stretches his arms to his companions, each of them placing a hand in one of his. “This seems like a natural breaking point, you should rest Daniel. We’ll continue tomorrow.” Louis immediately begins to escort his partners out of the room leaving the reporter in shock.
“WHAT KIND OF HORSE-SHIT DO YOU MEAN BY NATURAL BREAKING POINT?!”
---
Thank you for reading. Sorry this isn't very long :(
#poly!reader#lestat de lioncourt#lestat x reader#sorry for bad spelling#louis de pointe du lac#louis dpdl#amc interview with the vampire#armand x reader#lestat de lioncourt x reader#lestat#louis de pointe du lac x reader#louis x reader#ldpdl#interview with the vampire#amc iwtv#iwtv#sorry for poor spelling
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the amount of wealthy asians in my notes saying "this is dumb as fuck you're insane this doesn't apply to me my family is Malaysian / Indian / whatever and we have lived all over the world travelling for work and we are always expats wherever we live and I am very well travelled and you don't know what you're talking about this is US centric" you and your family aren't travelling and working as maids and labourers though are they? they aren't living in dubai as labourers working 16 hours a day and living in shanties 12 ppl to a room with their passports stolen from them yeah? they're working cushy white collar jobs for some company and living in serviced apartments that get cleaned by people from their own countries who are definitely not called Expats yeah? the indonesian lady in a tudung cleaning your rental flat in Riyadh isn't called an expat is she? she's called a migrant worker. but she's only there temporarily to work, just like you. huh I wonder what the difference is? the Filipino lady who cleans your house in Malaysia isn't called an expat is she? the only thing separating you from her is your Class status, and it blinds you to your privilege. are you fucking stupid or are you going to actually think about what i'm saying
#its amazing you can have all the money and education and still be an idiot#who refuses to read the words in front of their face
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the simple truth of being alive - chapter one
When Beatrice wakes up at seven the next morning, her brain is a little bit fried. Her eyes are heavy with sleep, her knee hurts from the cold and she’s fully aware that there is an android in her kitchen.
The research she did on Ava’s model and history last night was more depressing than informative.
The A-V-A-3500 was decommissioned after only fifteen androids were made, ten of them were scrapped for various reasons, three of them made it out into the world, one was never turned on, another resides in Dubai and is a mascot for street racing.
According to the few articles she found on it, the A-V-A-3500 was designed with adaptation in mind. Their goal was to become a part of the family, to connect with the people they were sent to and take the place of a caregiver or a live-in maid.
Beyond that, the hopes for the model were to be the first android that could have an emotional connection with a human - could fall in love and feel genuine joy at the sight of someone they were close to.
It was, apparently, a far bigger reach at the time then what androids were capable of and the reason most of the A-V-A-3500 models were scrapped is because they could not fully process all of the false emotions programmed into them.
The whole thing was written very much like an expense report. This talk of the androids becoming connected and loved, then in testing having that love taken away and them being overcome with grief.
“Our technology works too well at the moment” one of the articles said.
The A-V-A-3500’s passion for life and love was seen as a deterrent.
CONT ON AO3
#avatrice#avatrice fanfiction#warrior nun#warrior nun fanfiction#don't ask fjsaklfjsal#this is just the wild shit that pops into my brain#a short fic tho#3 chapters#but i needed to write it#avatrice au
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interior design insp/references dubai edition
Just like with Louis's wardrobe in Dubai I feel like there's a lot of misconception about the design of the penthouse and what it's meant to represent. First of all, dark modern was and still is super popular design style amongst the wealthy!! It's a very popular way to style large open spaces (like a penthouse apartment). Light and airy designs are usually intended to reflect more natural light to make your rooms look bigger but when you already have a MASSIVE space that's kind of unnecessary. Also it doesn't need to be said that these are vampires so enhancing natural light with bright wall colors/furniture is utterly irrelevant and quite frankly counterproductive to them. You would rarely see a very dark design in a tiny apartment though, that's why its popular mainly among the super wealthy in their mega penthouses or modernist mansions.
Black furniture also screams lux because it's a PAIN in the ass to maintain like lint, dust, grime, etc gets everywhere constantly so by purchasing black furniture you're pretty much announcing to your guests that you have a maid who cleans for you cause your rich ass sure as hell isn't dusting that shit every day.
While the overall aesthetic of Dubai I would say is highly modern, there are interesting touches that suggest a couple that has collected items through time. In the first screenshot, you see Daniel and Louis sitting in the ultra modern living space while Armand is off to the side at his very mid-century chair, a very early hint that he's maybe from a different time.
Looking at this shot, you can see as many as 4 different design styles in a single frame. The table is clearly ornate traditional, the chair (which looks like rattan or bamboo) is more mid-century/boho and the japanese garden, and finally a little pink modern organic henri dejeant lamp. It's such a perfect representation of how long Loumand have been alive and together cause its normal for couples to accumulate different pieces over the course of their lives together and try to fit them in even though they don't exactly match the current designs. But this is what happens when you've been together for 75 years!
It's also interesting to see how the design choices of the penthouse evolved because an earlier visualization had a green mario bellini couch instead of a dark grey/black. The bellini couch was a 70's design that made a huge comeback in the last couple years, which is like the WHOLE 2nd interview like someone from the 70s who has entered the picture again after a long absence. However, I bet they probably pulled back on the bellini couch cause it was becoming overdone although it is still mega expensive (comes in at around $20k) but it's kind of become one of those ughh not that shit again kind of item.
#iwtv#interview with the vampire#i stg im not rich i just like interior decor#im just trying to serve everyone plates of corn
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Rich Sugar Mummy in Kenya - Nikita from Tassia Eastlands Nairobi
Hello, my name is Nikita. I'm an entrepreneur in my 40s who is unmarried. I'm a single mom. I buy goods from Dubai, China, and the UK. I run three stores on Nairobi's Tom Mboya Street in addition to an appliances store in a town. I live in my house in Tassia, and there are only maids there. I am looking for a young guy between the ages of 20 and 35 for romance, enjoyment, and companionship. If we find each other attractive, we can take things further and become lifelong partners. No matter how poor he is, I am willing to invest in and spend money on him. He ought to know that he will be with me the majority of the time. I'm willing to take a test and so should he because I'm HIV-negative.
Interested in getting together with these hot sugar ladies? SMS hook up to +254717176613.
#can i get a sugar mummy in nairobi#kenyan sugar mummy phone numbers#contacts of sugar mummy in nakuru#youngest sugar mummy#dating sites for sugar mummy#rich sugar mummy in kenya#how can i get sugar mummy in kisumu#mombasa sugar mummy contacts
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Get your house cleaned by the professionals
Looking to get your house cleaned but don't know how to do it, we got you. At silver maids dubai we have trained professionals that will clean every corner even to the small detail.
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Apartment cleaning Services Abu Dhabi
Apartment cleaning
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Apartments for Rent in Al Barsha: The Ultimate Guide for Tenants
Al Barsha, one of Dubai’s most sought-after residential neighborhoods, offers a variety of rental apartments perfect for families, professionals, and students alike. Known for its convenient location, family-friendly amenities, and an array of entertainment options, Al Barsha has become a top choice for those looking for a balanced lifestyle in the heart of Dubai. This guide provides an in-depth look at everything you need to know when considering apartments for rent in Al Barsha.
Why Rent an Apartment in Al Barsha?
Prime Location and Accessibility Al Barsha is located close to key landmarks and business hubs, making it ideal for working professionals and families. With easy access to Sheikh Zayed Road, Al Khail Road, and the Dubai Metro, residents can conveniently travel across the city. Al Barsha is near popular neighborhoods like Dubai Marina, Jumeirah, and Downtown Dubai, making commuting simple and efficient.
Diverse Residential Options Al Barsha has a wide selection of apartments, from budget-friendly studios to spacious three-bedroom units. This range of options makes it ideal for singles, couples, and families. Many buildings also come with modern amenities such as gyms, swimming pools, and parking facilities, catering to various lifestyle needs.
Family-Friendly Community with Top Schools Families are drawn to Al Barsha due to its proximity to renowned schools, parks, and healthcare facilities. The neighborhood is close to several educational institutions like GEMS Dubai American Academy and the American School of Dubai, as well as nurseries, making it an excellent location for families with children.
Shopping and Entertainment Hubs Al Barsha is home to the famous Mall of the Emirates, which features shopping, dining, entertainment, and the indoor ski attraction, Ski Dubai. The neighborhood also offers a variety of cafes, restaurants, and local shops. Residents can enjoy a lively lifestyle with access to entertainment options right at their doorstep.
Recreational Spaces and Parks Al Barsha offers a balance of city living with ample green spaces and parks. Al Barsha Pond Park is a popular spot for families and fitness enthusiasts, offering jogging tracks, cycling paths, playgrounds, and peaceful lake views.
Types of Apartments Available for Rent in Al Barsha
Studio Apartments Studio apartments in Al Barsha are ideal for single professionals or students. These units offer a compact, affordable option for those who need a simple, efficient space. Many studio apartments come with essential amenities and are often located close to public transport and shopping centers.
One-Bedroom Apartments One-bedroom apartments are a popular choice for couples and young professionals. These units provide more space and privacy than studios and often come with separate living areas and larger kitchen spaces. One-bedroom apartments in Al Barsha are typically available in both standard and fully furnished options.
Two-Bedroom Apartments Perfect for small families or roommates, two-bedroom apartments offer spacious layouts with separate bedrooms, a living room, and additional bathrooms. These apartments often come with added amenities like balconies, which provide extra space and views of the city or nearby parks.
Three-Bedroom Apartments Three-bedroom apartments in Al Barsha are ideal for larger families. These units typically come with multiple bathrooms, maid rooms, and spacious layouts. Many three-bedroom apartments are found in high-end residential buildings and come with luxury facilities like pools, gyms, and 24-hour security.
Furnished Apartments Furnished apartments in Al Barsha are convenient for those who prefer a hassle-free move-in experience. These units are fully equipped with furniture, appliances, and essentials, making them ideal for short-term rentals or expats looking to settle quickly.
Average Rental Prices for Apartments in Al Barsha
Studio Apartments: AED 30,000 – AED 45,000 per year
One-Bedroom Apartments: AED 45,000 – AED 70,000 per year
Two-Bedroom Apartments: AED 70,000 – AED 100,000 per year
Three-Bedroom Apartments: AED 100,000 – AED 150,000 per year
Rental prices can vary based on location, building amenities, and whether the unit is furnished.
Popular Areas for Renting Apartments in Al Barsha
Al Barsha 1 Al Barsha 1 is the most popular and bustling part of the neighborhood, known for its proximity to Mall of the Emirates, grocery stores, restaurants, and retail outlets. This area has a variety of apartment buildings, catering to different budgets and preferences, making it ideal for those who enjoy a lively atmosphere with everything close at hand.
Al Barsha 2 and Al Barsha 3 These areas are quieter and more residential, with a mix of villas and apartment complexes. Al Barsha 2 and 3 are ideal for families looking for a peaceful environment, with nearby parks, schools, and essential services. Apartments here often offer more spacious layouts, catering to families who need additional room.
Al Barsha South Al Barsha South is an emerging area that combines modern apartment complexes with green spaces and new developments. This part of Al Barsha offers affordable rental options and is popular among young professionals and families who want modern apartments with convenient access to the city.
Lifestyle and Amenities in Al Barsha
Shopping and Dining Al Barsha is home to Mall of the Emirates, one of Dubai’s premier shopping destinations with a wide range of retail outlets, dining options, and Ski Dubai. The neighborhood also has smaller shopping centers and supermarkets, including Carrefour and Lulu Hypermarket, for convenient daily shopping needs. Restaurants and cafes in Al Barsha offer various cuisines, from Middle Eastern to international options.
Fitness and Wellness Facilities Most apartment buildings in Al Barsha come with fitness centers, swimming pools, and recreational areas. Residents can also access several nearby fitness centers, including Fitness First, Gold’s Gym, and yoga studios. Al Barsha Pond Park is perfect for jogging, cycling, and family picnics, offering green spaces and playgrounds.
Schools and Education Centers Families with children benefit from a selection of reputable schools in Al Barsha, including GEMS Dubai American Academy and Kings' School Al Barsha. The area also has nurseries, learning centers, and after-school programs, making it an education-friendly neighborhood.
Healthcare Services Al Barsha has a variety of healthcare facilities, such as Al Zahra Hospital and Mediclinic Parkview Hospital, providing quality medical care for residents. Pharmacies, clinics, and specialty medical centers are also readily available throughout the area.
Public Transport Access The Dubai Metro’s Red Line runs through Al Barsha, with the Mall of the Emirates Metro Station being a central access point for residents. Al Barsha’s network of buses and taxis provides additional transport options for easy citywide travel.
Tips for Renting an Apartment in Al Barsha
Research the Building and Amenities Ensure that the apartment building offers the amenities you require, such as parking, a gym, and security. Different buildings have different facilities, so checking this in advance can help you choose the right fit.
Inspect the Apartment Before finalizing a rental, inspect the apartment for any maintenance needs, overall condition, and layout to ensure it meets your requirements.
Understand the Lease Terms Make sure to understand the lease terms, including any additional fees, security deposits, and maintenance policies. Some landlords may require multiple checks for rent payments, so it’s good to clarify payment terms.
Consider Proximity to Key Locations Think about how close the apartment is to your workplace, children’s schools, and essential services like supermarkets and hospitals. Al Barsha’s central location is beneficial, but proximity to these amenities can make your daily life more convenient.
Conclusion
Apartments for rent in Al Barsha offer a mix of convenience, affordability, and a family-friendly atmosphere, making the area one of the top residential neighborhoods in Dubai. From studio apartments to spacious family units, Al Barsha provides rental options for every lifestyle and budget. With easy access to public transport, premier shopping destinations, schools, and healthcare facilities, Al Barsha ensures residents enjoy a comfortable and vibrant lifestyle.
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this shit makes me so angry because i deal with assholes like this all the time in ASIA where i live as an ASIAN (not a US AMERICAN!!) who treat their maids and domestic workers like absolute garbage, the amount of abuse that happens is insane and you think you're somehow exempt from fucked up class relations and being clueless about how poor people in your own country are treated because you're not a Yankee? are you seriously stupid? i despise people like you more than anything, people who should know better and don't because you have Zero class awareness and you think that you know everything simply due to your nationality when you know damn well you are not treated the same as others in your own country let alone elsewhere in the world due to your economic status.
I've seen Indian women Related to me abuse their Indonesian maids in Malaysia as though it was their God given right and lost my shit at them, reported them to local orgs that help abused maids find safer work, told everyone what I saw, cut them out of my life, made clear to them that they are absolute scum of the earth and that the only thing separating them from their maid is the Money they have. You are probably no better than those women, treating human beings like property and thinking yourself the most oppressed person alive simply because you're from the global majority and that any critique of your Lifestyle is simply because the person Doesn't Get It because they're American. "This is US centric I am an expat when I am a Malaysian and live in Dubai" I'm from your country and I know exactly the context of this Lifestyle and I am telling you that you are a cunt. Your Class status shields you from the greatest harm the global south faces, you will never face the danger those labelled "migrant workers" face but you parade yourself online like you are the expert because you hold an Asian passport and you have travelled everywhere. all that money and no brain or compassion and a biggest victim complex. and you will continue to play victim because the westerners are watching but i see you and I know your heart is rotten. fuck all of you for real
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Emaar Beachfront's Bayview: Where Luxury Meets the Arabian Gulf
Introduction to Emaar Beachfront
A place where sun-kissed shores meet modern luxury, where every moment is a celebration of seaside living. We invite you to discover the epitome of coastal elegance – Emaar Beachfront. Dubai's most exclusive master-planned waterfront haven- to introduce one of its most prestigious residences with state-of-the-art design, Bayview.
Prime Location and Accessibility
Located at the heart of an exclusive island community, Bayview has already established itself as a signature of style and luxury with breathtaking views of the Arabian Gulf. Here you will have easy access to the rest of the city with direct access to Sheikh Zayed Road, 5mins to Dubai Marina and half an hour to reach Downtown Dubai, Business Bay, and Dubai International Airport.
Bayview's Architectural Marvel
Bayview by Address Resorts is a luxury, 2-tower building by Emaar Properties, the number one and the most trusted developer in Dubai. It offers branded and fully furnished luxury apartments and penthouses.
Tower 1 includes exclusive furnished apartments with 1-4 bedrooms starting from 736 sq. ft to 2,476 sq. ft at AED 3.3 million, as well as a limited number of penthouses with 4 to 6 bedrooms starting from 4,462 to 11,683 prices at AED 28 million.
Tower 2 features 308 residences, which include 1–3-bedroom apartments ranging from 731 sq. ft to 1,855 sq. ft with prices starting at AED 2.9 million- and 5-6-bedroom penthouses ranging from 5,257 sq. ft to 11,738 sq. ft at AED 33.6 million. The complex will offer services from the globally renowned hotel brand, Address Hotels + Resorts.
Luxury Amenities and Services
In terms of the layouts, 3-bedroom properties will be coming with a maid’s room, whilst the exclusive penthouses will feature a show kitchen, a lounge, and walk-in closets. The tallest tower of Bayview by Address Resorts will house a luxury and exclusive penthouse with a private swimming pool and terrace.
Investment Potential and Financial Considerations
Here you can really enjoy an attractive annual rental return, with figures exceeding 12%, and a payment plan extending until July 2028. On average, you only have to pay 20% of the property value annually, ensuring a manageable and financially appealing investment.
Bayview is part of Emaar's commitment to branded residences, joining other esteemed developments like Palace Beach Residence, Beachgate by Address, Address Residences - The Bay, and Grand Blue by Elie Saab, creating a total of 50% branded residences to date. And will have an average appreciation of 25-35% more compared to non-branded residences.
Future Developments and Area Growth
When Emaar Beachfront is fully completed, you will be able to take advantage of an internal monorail, a pedestrian bridge and water boat stations.
Within a 5–10-minute drive you can reach a number of social facilities, such as supermarkets, educational institutions, medical centers and much more.
With the private beach and easy access to attractions, real estate in Bayview by Address Resorts will be in high demand both for long and short-term rentals.
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