Author’s Note: This story was written in response to the following prompt in the WritingPrompts subreddit:
This story was first posted on Reddit. It’s been a while since I last went to r/writingprompts and wrote in response to a prompt there. I was pretty spontaneous while thinking about what to write for the prompt, and seeing how it turned out makes me worry about my state of mind right now. I am feeling down lately, honestly, but it’s not like I’m not trying to lift my spirits up. I guess I’ll need to talk with some trustworthy people some time soon…Anyway, honest constructive feedback is highly encouraged and will be highly appreciated. Also, MATURE GUIDANCE IS HIGHLY RECOMMENDED HERE, YO.
Some time after I got married, I got a maid from some rich woman who called herself Hera. My first impression of the maid was that she looked like a robot or something, well, in terms of her face and her mannerisms, that is. She was made of human flesh and blood, and she was actually forced to act like a robot. The angry demonstration that her former boss showed me, followed by the growing aura of violence, creeped me out, but I still took her into my new residence, concerned for the well-being of the maid. That wasn’t my only reason for taking the maid in, though.
As for why I still took her in, well, my husband was a very…popular man. Popular with women, specifically. Even when we were dating, he often flirted and had sex with women other than me. To be honest, back then, I wasn’t really expecting him to do that with me often too. I was content with being the woman who would listen to him and his issues, because I felt like someone with habits like his grew up with a lot of loneliness. It took years before he finally proposed to me, and I accepted without hesitation.
A month after we got married, though…well, I felt like I should be doing it with him. Whether I had sex with him or not while we were dating wasn’t a problem, and I do like him treating me like a really precious treasure, but the care he gives me feels too much at that point. It’s not a “women can’t do manly work” issue. It’s just…
…I don’t like it when he thinks that having sex with me is a sin. That same thought process was keeping him in his old habits, and it was beginning to tick me off. He loved me, right? Why is he still thinking of me like that?
And as I was moping about it in a park after having an argument with him about it, I met that woman and the maid she gave me. The rich woman called herself Hera, boasting that she was a goddess, and I thought that she was just joking or something. I’m a believer in God, but not in the gods of mythology, see.
My belief in God didn’t waver during that night, though. Still, I started to think that the Hera I talked with really was the Greek goddess herself. Or maybe I should just call her a legend, because she isn’t really perfect…
Anyway, that night, I went home with the maid named Heracles (Yes, I was puzzled by the name too, until I found out about her issues with Hera) and unsurprisingly, walked into my husband making out with some other woman in the living room. They stared at me with surprise, and I sighed with frustration. I think the other woman was about to offer an opportunity for a threesome when I felt wind rush past me.
When I realized where that wind came from, I saw the maid holding a double-edged sword between my husband and his make-out partner. I don’t know where it came from, considering how skimpy Heracles’s maid dress was, but it was there, the sharp edges touching their skins.
“Do you love your wife?” Heracles asked, looking at my husband.
“So much that I don’t want to have sex with her!” my husband exclaimed, nodding vigorously, while the make-out partner started to complain but couldn’t because of Heracles’s gaze.
“Do you know how much he loves his wife?” the maid asked.
“How should I kn–”
And then the blade at the make-out partner’s side drew some blood.
“Do you know how much he loves his wife?” Heracles asked again. At that point, I really wanted to stop the violence.
“Can’t we talk about this peacefully?” I shouted at them.
“In my experience, force yields better results,” Heracles told me with a sharp and crimson gaze. “Also, I give such force to people who deserve them.”
“But I don’t want to deal with this like that, Heracles!” I shouted back.
“‘Heracles’?” the threatened duo repeated, disbelief in their faces.
“Yes, her name is Heracles, but that’s not the point right now! Stop the violence right now, please! Didn’t you promise to help me deal with my issues with my husband?”
At that, Heracles groaned and put her sword away, making it vanish into particles of light. “So be it, Mistress,” she said with a monotone, followed by a glare at my husband and his current other woman. “You got off with good fortune, fools. You will not be so fortunate in the future, though.”
I sighed with frustration again, and I treated the wound of the scared other woman before sending her off, telling her that we can still meet, but as friends and nothing more. As for my husband, he clung to me, and then he blushed at how close he was to me, keeping a little distance from me while holding on to my jacket’s sleeve with his trembling fingers. I felt pleased and annoyed at that.
That night, we slept in the same room for the first time in our married life, but we didn’t have sex. We probably would have done it if Heracles wasn’t watching us so intently. I knew she had good intentions, but intention isn’t enough. Still, she was adamant about keeping an eye on us while my husband and I were together, and that irritated me a lot.
Still, having my husband clinging to me so closely wasn’t so bad. Him still fearfully clinging to me when he had to go to work was an issue, though. Heracles was so overbearing too.
Fortunately, nobody died on the road towards the improvement of my relationship with my husband. Still, that did not mean that there was no trouble. She almost maimed people who tried to flirt with me and my husband, and her habitual appearance with her maid outfit, which she likes because of all the attention she gets, was not helping.
There was also one time when I expressed my pent-up frustration regarding my husband. At the time, Heracles was the closest person I could approach, and the anger wasn’t helping me think clearly. Seeing her being silent, nodding, thinking, and then telling me that she would do something that would help really well…Well, I felt better when she did all those. I thought she listened.
But when I calmed down, I remembered that she was Heracles, the black-haired and crimson-eyed woman in a skimpy French maid dress, a woman who often resorted to violence and audacity when dealing with problems. I felt even more disturbed when she wasn’t by my side during the day, even when I met up with my also scared husband before heading back home from our jobs.
What we saw when we got home and into our bedroom…it was definitely not what we wanted.
“It appears that even my surveillance in stealth is not effective as well–”
“We can feel your presence even when you’re trying to hide, Heracles.”
“–so I have decided to be more helpful in having you bond more deeply.”
My husband and I exchanged looks of awkwardness, and we turned our gazes back to the maid who was wearing a see-through nightgown on a candle-lit and scented bed with flower petals.
“No,” my husband and I answered.
Heracles raised an eyebrow at that. “But why not? Are arrangements like these not arousing to you?” She even stretched her body out, making us shudder. “Hm? Do I sense desire from the two of you?”
“You’re hot, yeah,” my husband replied, causing some disappointment in me for a few moments, “But my wife’s feeling uncomfortable, and I don’t like my wife feeling uncomfortable.”
“And if it’s sex, I’d like to do it with my husband only,” I added. “I’m sorry, Heracles.”
Heracles pouted and groaned at that, and she blew the flames, candles, petals, and scents out with a burst of wind.
“So be it,” she grumbled, stomping out of the room. “I shall go give Hera another beating today, then. And feel free to brag about your experience! I will tell you about mine, and I kid you not: I have been through more glorious intercourse than you will ever have in your lifetimes!”
And when we heard the front door being opened and then slamming shut, we exhaled hard.
I didn’t waste time too, because finally, FINALLY, that crazy maid left us alone. I took my husband’s lips and, with my tongue, showed him how much I wanted him.
“Do you love me?” I breathed into his worried face.
“Y-Yeah,” he answered.
“Then take me right now,” I begged. “I won’t be mad if you do it with me.”
And that was the night when we first had sex. It was beautiful, and I don’t feel like explaining it in further detail here. After that night, I did personally thank Hera and Heracles, whom I visited while they were in the middle of beating each other up. They told me about their pleasure, and then they continued their battle. As for me and my husband, we’re doing better now, and even though there were times when I caught him going around with other women again, he’s improving really well, and I still like being loyal to him.
Oh, and as for Heracles, she still remained our maid, one who liked living in my house more than in Hera’s. Her development towards being less violent is slow but there, which is something that my husband and I are happy about. That still doesn’t erase the fact that she can be irritating, though. The latest issue involving her? She’s frequently having messy sex in my house…ugh…