Maid to Submit

Maid to Submit by Sue Lyndon Page B

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Authors: Sue Lyndon
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countryside unencumbered by the glow of streetlights, but she didn’t have time to stop and admire the scenery. Ally moved through the trees with stealth, zigzagging her way up to Mark’s house. Years of working as a stunt double had given her plenty of experience running around in heels, among other talents that had impressed Mark. Or so she thought. Most, if not all, of her previous boyfriends had been intimidated by her. Maybe Mark was no different.
    She approached his house to find every last porch light blaring through the darkness. Crap . He was expecting her to knock on his door any second now for their dinner and movie date. If he glanced outside looking for her headlights, he’d get quite the shock when he spotted her running around with armfuls of toilet paper.
    She surveyed his illuminated lawn and hurled the tote bag beside a large tree on the edge of the clearing. With a sense of determination, she retrieved the box of plastic forks. Starting in the center of his yard, she began sticking forks in the grass, making a wide row of fifty before starting a new row. By the time she finished, she was breathless from constantly bending over, but all five hundred of the forks were sticking straight out of his lawn. God bless Jen and her love of buying everything, including plastic utensils, in bulk.
    “How do you like that, Mark?” she muttered as she jogged back to the tote bag. “Fork you and your busty blonde friend.” She beamed inwardly with satisfaction. She almost wished she could stay hidden in the woods overnight, just to watch him bend over and pull out every single plastic fork the next day.
    The toilet papering job was a work of art. Ally’s older sister, Leanne, had taught her how to gingerly grasp the end of a toilet paper roll and hurl it high over tree branches when they were in high school. Though years had passed since their last naughty escapade, she still had an arm for throwing. She used every last square of toilet paper, winding it through each tree in his front yard until the job was complete. Standing back, she surveyed the scene with pride, knowing Leanne would approve.
    Grasping the bottle of ketchup, Ally headed for the concrete walkway that led from his driveway to his front door. Using long, elegant cursive strokes, she painted, “Cheater cheater pumpkin eater,” across the entire length of the walkway.
    Just as she stood up to inspect her handiwork, someone grabbed her from behind and placed a hand firmly over her mouth. She dropped the bottle of ketchup and screamed.
     
    * * *
     
    Mark held onto to Ally as she struggled. The state of his yard came as a shock. He glanced from the lawn filled with plastic forks, to the thoroughly toilet papered trees, to the message written in ketchup. What the hell? He’d spotted Ally at work outside and decided to surprise her by sneaking out his back door. He didn’t want to scare her, but he also didn’t want to risk her trying to run away. Apparently they needed to talk. But about what he had no fucking clue.
    “Shh, Ally. It’s me, Mark.” He kept his hand clamped over her mouth.
    She responded with a muffled protest and tried to stomp on his feet. He dodged her blows and uncovered her mouth, spinning her around to meet his gaze.
    “Don’t touch me!” Fury blazed in her pretty blue eyes.
    Mark stared at her, still completely at a loss. “Sweetheart, what’s going on?” he asked, not releasing his grip on her arms despite her incessant squirming.
    “What’s going on?” she asked mockingly. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. You’re cheating on me.”
    He stared at her for a moment, stunned. “Ally, sweetheart, I swear to God I’m not cheating on you. I love you. Where on Earth did you get that idea?”
    “Don’t you stand there and deny it. I know all about the big breasted blonde you’ve been seeing. Jen saw the two of you at the new Mexican place today, having lunch and looking quite cozy together.”
    The big breasted

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