Not Maid For Cleaning

Catherine was hard at work and busy as always, it was hard work keeping the manor house of Mr Lang tidy, with several black Labradors constantly running around there was always pet hair to clean up, and nothing but perfection would satisfy Mr Lang's obsession with cleanliness.

"CATHERINE!" yelled Mr Lang, his booming voice emanating from the study. 

Quickly Catherine put down her dustpan and brush, lifting up the skirt of her maid uniform slightly and dashing into the room. 

"Catherine, what is this on my teaspoon?” Mr Lang asks in a stern tone, pointing to the spoon upon his tea tray, a crusted speck of left-over food tarnishing the otherwise clean spoon. "How many times Catherine, how many?! You shouldn't be relying on a dishwasher to do your job; if it isn't clean, I don’t want to see it among the other cutlery, that's the second time this week now, your lack of hygiene is beginning to worry me."

"Now go get me a **clean one**."

With the final words ringing from Mr Lang's lips, Catherine turned and began scurrying off towards the kitchen...

"AND BY THE WAY, I'VE GOT A MEETING AT 2; I NEED YOU TO GET THE RANGE ROVER READY" Mr Lang bellowed from his office, still sat at his desk and typing away at his keyboard.

**Oh god** Catherine thought, he surely couldn't be wanting "that" Range Rover, the one he'd been off-roading in only yesterday, the one which she was supposed to have cleaned by now.

Yes, it was definitely "that" Range Rover, and with less than 20 minutes before 2, there was no time to wash it herself, nor was there a car wash close by... she began panicking among her thoughts.
Retrieving the fresh spoon from the kitchen she began making her way back to his study, pondering what she could possibly do to get herself out of this mess, but in the end, before she set foot back in his office, she decided honesty would be the best course of action. 

"Umm... Mr Lang, there's something i need to tell you about the Range Rover" Catherine said timidly. 

Mr Lang looking up with a puzzled look on his face, staring back at the maid before him "Go on" were his only words. 

Sweat beginning to run down the back of her neck... "I've accidentally forgotten to get it cleaned since yesterday" Catherine whimpered, bracing for whatever wrath Mr Lang might unleash upon her...

"Don't worry about it, I’ll just nip to a car wash on the way there" he's said in an unexpectedly calm voice, so much so Catherine looked back at him with a look of confusion, did she just hear him right, "Don’t worry about it".

"Now run along I’m sure you still have lots to do," remarked Mr Lang before looking back down at his computer screen. 

In no time at all, it was 2 o’clock, and Catherine was standing on the front drive next to the disgustingly dirty car, with keys in hand. A huge lump of turf still stuck to the front of the roof, between the bars of the roof rack.

"When you said it was still dirty, I wasn't expecting half the field to still be on it, I mean look at that bit up there," pointing at the mound of grass on the roof. "Well that's going to have to come down before I can go anywhere, hurry up get up and get rid of it," signalling for her to get up on the front bonnet and pull it out.

Taking off her heels, Catherine did as she was told, and started pulling at the built up mud trying to scrape it off with her fingernails, slowly whittling away at it. With her back turned, Mr Lang retrieved a pair of handcuffs from one of his pockets, clicking one end around her leg and spinning her around, as her skirt floated up and her bum skidded down the front windscreen leaving a reasonably clean line in its wake, quickly the cuff was attached to one of the D rings mounted to the front hood, meant for tying down game after a hunt.

Catherine let out a shriek as her hands were attached to opposite ends of the roof bars. Her screaming was beginning to grind at Mr Lang's ears, as he drew from his pocket a black ball gag, forcing it into her mouth. Completely bound to the car now, there was nothing she could do but look at her boss turned capture with pleading eyes. 

"You see Catherine, i try and be patient with you, I really do but you never seem to grasp how to do anything properly, so... I’m going to show you first-hand how I expect my wonderful car to be cleaned and kept in like new condition, and hopefully then you will understand how to clean properly; otherwise I’ll be showing you the rest of the appliances in my home!" with that he turned and walked towards the driver’s side door.

Feeling the engine below her rumble to life she knew he was serious. With nothing more to say the car 4x4 pulled away from the driveway and set off towards a car wash, which one she wasn't sure, but having passed by multiple small petrol stations with more than adequate car washes, she knew he had a specific one in mind. After a rather long journey, Catherine could see make out a sign off in the distance, reading "Squeaky Clean HQ" with the logo of a cartoon soaped up car. Catherine recognised that name all too well, that's the car wash she took her old BMW for a valet before she sold it.

Turning in at the T-junction she watched, trembling as they drove around the facility, large red brick pillars supporting the steel and glass that made up the ceiling and walls, giving her a perfect view of the countless brushes and nozzles, conveniently separated into specific sections; washing, polishing, drying and detailing.  

As the Rover neared the entrance Catherine spotted 2 of the workers, one was seated in a deckchair inside the entrance, whilst the other was sitting next to a sign with a fanny pack around his hips, both of them practically in-sync, dropped their jaws. She could hear the sound of an electric motor as the driver's side window rolls down.

"Ah hello again Matthew, how you been, what’s it now the 3rd time this month? Well as you can see the cars a complete bomb, so I’m gonna opt for the full valet, also that's Catherine on the hood, don’t mind her, consider her my new hood ornament for not cleaning up. So anyways there's the £60 for the wash and also... don’t tell the boss... here's a bit extra for you and the rest of your boys," Mr Lang says, slipping another £400 into the worker's hand.

“Uuhh... sure thing if you say so Mr Lang..." replied Mathew, pushing a button on a console behind the sign.

But before the car pulled forward and onto the conveyor, the window was closed, and the door swung open unexpectedly, stepping out Mr Lang wielded a pair of stainless steel safety scissors, approaching her before unceremoniously snipping away at her uniform. Dress, stockings, bra and panties they all had to go, "I’ll just get rid of these for you now Mathew, wouldn't want them getting stuck in anything!" Mr Lang hollered in a sarcastic tone, tossing the remnants of her clothing into a nearby bin, before putting the scissors away and getting back into the driver’s seat, pulling the car forward and onto the front of the conveyor belt, the other man guiding the car in with hand signals, before shouting "neutral" and giving Mr Lang a thumbs up. 

Before anything could be done the men had to get rid of most of that dirt, retrieving a high pressure lance, he set to work doing just that, spraying the front of the car with high pressure cold water, spraying this way and that until he could see the paint again, unfortunately Catherine too received the same treatment, with her hair plastered to the windscreen and spurting a stream of water from the hole in her ball gag.

Once the rest of the car had been hosed down, he returned the lance and picking up a portable sprayer filled with bug remover, misting over the front hood and poor girl, soaking her in the chilly orange liquid. Next the man switched out his sprayer for a large push broom with a hog-hair brush at its end, before dunking it in a tub of soapy window cleaning solution. Rubbing over the front windscreen with broad strokes, the stiff bristles flicking over her upper half, from the bottom of her ribs to her elbows just above her head. The man is showing no sign of relenting, pushing the brush over the top of one nipple and up over the next, back and forth, as if he was just doing his daily routine. The brush was eventually pulled off of her and re-dunked in the tub, followed by the rest of the cars windows and wing mirrors being cleaned.

After the man had finished doing the prep work, he returned the broom and pressed the start button on a nearby console, the car juddered forward as the gears on the conveyor begun pushing the wheels forward, pulling the mucky maid towards her awaiting fate... 

Two large semi-circular arches made of aluminium were positioned over the conveyor belt, the first one emitting a thick white froth from its 32 nozzles, positioned evenly around the car, covering it and the poor girl in foam. Catherine was doused from toes to head, only a few specks of skin were left showing after the foam was applied. Next came the second archway this one rather than having multiple nozzles, had two flat plating plates close together, above them was a decorative sign with the words "Volcano Bath", as the car drew nearer foam begun running down between the plates, creating a curtain of hot steamy yellow foam, a lot more bubbly and airy than the last lot had been. The piping hot foam was a sudden shock to Catherine’s now cold skin, sending pins and needles through her as the foam ran down her back and between her butt cheeks.

Meanwhile, whilst the arches were merrily soaping up the bound lady below them, a set of nozzles positioned towards the tires, applied a coating of wheel cleaner and a plate in the floor began rinsing the undercarriage of the 4x4. Fully soaped-up the car continued on its journey carrying poor Catherine with it dragging her towards the first set of brushes; two low rocker brushes were in the front unable to get her, followed by a pair of tall side brushes and leading up in the rear, the top horizontal brush. 

The red and blue neoprene bristles, all at the same time begun to spin. At first she'd didn't know what was happening around her with the soap blocking her vision, until she started hearing the unmistakable pitta patter of the bristles scrubbing at the cars dirty exterior, the side brushes managing to graze of her feet and hands, but nothing more as they cleaned the sides of the car, splashing her with soapy water as they went by. The horizontal brushes next up had already pre-emptively lowered into position, at first scrubbing over her feet and shins, but quickly work its way up towards more sensitive areas.

Catherine let out a gasp of air as the bristles began gently flogging her privates, as if washing just another part of the car, rapidly her breasts too were brought into the scrubbing brush. Her even more sensitive nipples receiving multiple flicks per second caused her to let out a deep low moan of lust, the brush continuing up her body, the last few flicks to her womanhood marked the start of the scrubbing to her face, the brush continuing its intended task till her entire body and the rest of the car had been scrubbed clean.

With the horizontal brush dropping off the back of the car, Catherine was met with icy blasts of cold water, coming from a high-pressure rinse arch, relieving her of her soapy cocoon and rinsing out her open nevers, soap and foam were gushing out like a volcano. The nozzles on the arch revolving in overlapping rings, seeing that no foam remained on the car, as the wheels and sides also receive a thorough rinsing off.

The few seconds of sight she had were quickly robbed from her again the time by a secondary arch spraying her with another coating of foam, this time it was tri-foam paint conditioner, preventing the paint from dulling or fading with age, the arch’s nozzles spewing pink, blue and yellow foam, burying the poor girl in a rainbow of bubbles, fizzing and tingling against her naked skin.

A few seconds later Catherine could again hear the all too familiar pitta patter sounds, this time however it wasn't as loud and a lot more slower sounding, approaching the exposed soles of her feet were multiple long strands of plush microfiber towelling, still dripping with foam from previous cars. Swing wildly from the mitter curtain in the ceiling, the ticklish cloth rubbing against her defenceless soles, as she tried to shake them off kicking wildly, but only seeming to make the rubbing more thorough, as the towel stands landed stoke after stoke sending shivers through her entire body.

The plush fibres were moving further up her legs and eventually lapping at her still open crotch, one of the towels landing off-kilter, dropping sideways between her petite lips, broadly stoking back and forth as the car dragged her further under the curtain. Several strips are rubbing her entire body at the same time. The first mitter curtain had been bad enough, but now she could feel another one directly behind it, and unlike the first one which had been rocking back and forth, this one was swaying from side to side. Wet soapy clothes slapped at her sides as more and more wormed their way between her legs, snaking over her lips and between her cleavage. All the while dripping with soapy foam.

The constant stroking and rubbing of the slippery wet clothes was slowly beginning to cease, her tiny size 6 feet pocking out the other side of the strips, receiving another blast of warm rinsing water, the nozzles washing over her pink skin the further she's drawn out, eventually Catherine was able to see again, immediately spotting the two flashing blue and yellow neon signs, she lets out another high pitched squeak from her ball gagged mouth upon seeing what the signs read, "clear coat protectant" and "sealer wax. Two sets of arches now approached the car the first one armed with atomising nozzles, spraying over the car a fine clear mist of clear coat protectant, meant to protect from UV sun-rays, kind of like sun cream for cars, Catherine remembered Mr Lang once tell her.

The liquid is smelling strongly of chemicals and tingled against her skin. She had little time to worry about this as the second arch moved overhead, equipped with another pair of flat plates, dribbling bubbling hot wax down on top of her, Catherine yelped as the froth stuck to her like wax from a candle. The wax running over the top of the car, only leaving small patches untouched, as a clump of the wax floats down landing between her legs, another group of cylinder shaped brushes now getting ready to intercept the waxy car.

The top brush is lowering down onto the front hood and setting to work polishing the new hood ornament below it thin whip-like strands snapping against her legs and feet, settling over her waxy steaming mound, changing rotation as it continued. The sensation of the brush switching from whipping to scrubbing then back to whipping again as the brush drew further up her body, much to her distaste, the wax leaving a bitter taste in her mouth as a little bit seeped in through the holes. The brush is continuing over her sensitive nipples, before ascending up and onto her face engulfing her in a sea of blue bristles.

With the wax fully applied the car is finally sent through the last few archways, the first one rinsing her off whilst the second applies a coating of proshield polymer sealant, the sealant doubling up as a hydrophobic coating, before the final arch gives one final rinse down with spot free rinse. The heated dryers are now firing up as the overhead one, lowers down towards the bonnet, blow drying poor Catherine, making the maid's hair look like a scarecrow as the heating elements inside leave her dry as a bone.

Catherine could see the exit in sight, and her hopes were raised, until she spotted her old friend the mitter curtain, its chamois drying towels sweeping in from either side as their released. Shaking back and forth for one last time over the sodden girl, lapping at any trapped moisture or dampness between her lips and cleavage, the leathery fabric imparting a subtle sheen to the surface of the car as it exits the wash. Meanwhile, a pair of black oily brushes apply a tire dressing on the way out.

Before a green traffic light flashes on and the car drives out, it’s new shining hood ornament still firmly attached.

(the end for now)