Climax: Volume 1

by Ella Ford

  Jessica, on the other hand, seemed to be hotheaded and passionate, concentrating solely on how often her hungry pussy would get licked and how far she could go in her use of my body.

  Slowly, though, they settled on a list of requirements and I nodded as they outlined them to me.

  Firstly, they required that I called them Mistress Jessica and Mistress Melinda. I was to speak only when spoken to, unless in extreme circumstances. While performing household duties, I was to wear only tan thigh high stockings, black stiletto pumps and a simple black shift dress that Mistress Jessica happened to have lying around, as well as my white apron from Miss Foster’s. It was an improvised uniform, that spoke to their inexperience. I sensed they would soon learn the benefits of having a formal requirement for my appearance, but that would come in time.

  A room was prepared for me in the apartment. A modest bedroom that contained little in the way of personalised touches or signs of habitation. I sighed as they showed me to the room, suddenly struck with a feeling of longing for the old maid’s quarters at Miss Foster’s house. It was only a the morning before that I’d woken up next to the sensual blonde Elizabeth, but it felt like an age ago.

  As my mistresses reached the end of their discussion, their talk turned to the question of punishment. Mistress Melinda thought that it was important to establish the ground rules up front, but Jessica seemed oddly reluctant. It was another instance where I sensed that the young blonde mistress thought that this was only a game, but the more mature Mistress Melinda grasped the need to address such issues. It was important that I knew my place and that I had a healthy respect for the authority of my owners.

  “If, for any reason, you displease us, or disobey our commands, then we will be forced to punish you. Do you understand that Cassandra?” she asked me, looking me directly in the eye.

  “Yes, Mistress Melinda,” I answered without hesitation.

  “Initial punishment will be a spanking, either by hand or with… something else,” she said, her voice was almost trembling with anticipation as she spoke. It was beyond obvious now that this woman was ideally suited to this life.

  “Yes, Mistress Melinda,” I replied.

  “Good. Then you may go to your room and sleep. Your tasks will begin tomorrow,” she dismissed me with a wave and I stood, bowing before I left the room.

  ---

  I woke up at six the following morning, my body clock already conditioned by life at Miss Foster’s. After a quick shower, I found my new uniform hanging on the door of my room and I hurriedly changed into it. The simple black dress was loose fitting and comfortable, a casual contrast to the sheer tan stockings and precarious black heels that seemed highly sexual. Nevertheless, it felt good to be wearing a uniform again, it helped me feel settled into my new life.

  My first task of the morning was to run a bath for Mistress Jessica and help her bathe, so I hurried through the large apartment to the main bathroom. For the first time, I began to take in my surroundings. The apartment was spacious and modern, sparsely decorated but tasteful and not ostentatious. The large living room area consisted of a wide seating area and vast kitchen, with large, full length windows that looked out from the penthouse down to the city below. I marvelled at it as I passed, stopping to stare at the buildings and streets, so familiar to me yet seen now from a new angle. It was still early, and a Saturday, so the distant city seemed calm and unhurried. I wondered if any of the people down there had any idea of the things that went on behind closed doors; if they had any clue about The Alpha Exchange or their clandestine meetings.

  I shook my head and returned to the task at hand. Mistress Jessica had an all day meeting with a charity that she was a patron of. She’d asked me to wake her and then help her get ready. I made my way to the apartment’s opulent bathroom; a stark, white porcelain sanctuary that was impeccably finished and endlessly luxurious. Reaching over the large tub, I turned the faucets and began to fill it. As I was bending over, I sensed a presence behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw Mistress Jessica standing in the doorway. She was leaning against the frame, arms crossed in front of her, watching me.

  I realised that my pussy and ass were clearly visible as I bent over the tub and hurriedly stood up, simultaneously ashamed by my unexpected display and suddenly aroused by the idea of being watched.

  Mistress Jessica purred demurely, “Oh, don’t mind me Cassandra, I was just enjoying the view.”

  “Thank you, Mistress Jessica,” I replied awaiting further instructions.

  The young mistress was wearing a sheer, white negligee and nothing else. Her face was devoid of makeup and she appeared incredibly fresh and youthful. Her tanned skin was radiant and alive in the harsh light of the bathroom.

  She stepped into the room and shrugged the flimsy lingerie off her body, allowing it to fall to the floor. I hurried behind her and bent to pick it up. As I did so, she grabbed my ass roughly and squeezed my cheek.

  “Oh my, that feels good,” she whispered, her voice thick with anticipation.

  “Th-thank you mistress,” I stuttered, surprised by the attention. My old mistress never normally bothered with our bodies until long after noon. The mornings were a chance to go about our chores without interruption. It was only when she summoned one of us to eat lunch that we knew she was sufficiently awake that we might be called upon at any time to attend to her wishes.

  I stepped back to the tub, my heels clicking on the porcelain tiles. The water was deep enough now and I checked the temperature, then turned off the faucets and faced the mistress.

  “The bath is ready for you now, Mistress Jessica,” I said, offering her my hand to help her in. She graciously took it and stepped into the warm water, lowering herself with a shudder. She splashed herself, sighing as the hot liquid landed on her breasts and neck. Then she laid back, her head resting on the raised lip behind her and her arms sprawling along the rim of the tub.

  I studied her body. It was the first time I’d seen her fully naked and she was quite breathtaking. Her breasts appeared natural, unlike so many of her peers. Perfect globes of flesh that still retained the structure of youth, with pert pink nipples that had hardened in the bathwater. She was slim, with a flat belly and long legs, yet her hips were wide and womanly. There was something deeply sexual about her, the perfect figure to attract attention. But all attention inevitably fell between her legs, to that neat rectangle of blonde hair and the even line of her pussy. I shuddered as I remembered tasting her the previous night, devouring that enticing chasm and drinking in the juice of her desire.

  “You’re staring at me Cassandra,” she scolded lightly.

  I realised that I was and hurriedly looked away from her body. “I-I’m sorry mistress,” I stuttered and gazed at the floor.

  Mistress Jessica went quiet for a minute, then said, “I’d like you to wash me, but I don’t want you to get your new uniform wet…” She let the thought hang in the air for a few seconds. “Why don’t you take it off and join me in the tub?” she finally asked.

  “Whatever mistress wants,” I replied obediently. In truth, it was what I wanted as well. I longed to feel that soft, young body against mine. Writhing in the warm water together, her hand on my pussy, my mouth on hers.

  I stepped back to the bathroom counter and slipped the loose dress off my body, folding it neatly. Then I slipped out of my heels and placed them together out of the way. Finally, I bent over and began to roll my stockings down. I took great care to ensure that my ass was facing Mistress Jessica as I did so, treating her to a perfect view of my pussy. I could feel her eyes on me as I pulled the sheer stockings off, hot and burning, her lust was palpable. Finally, I stepped back towards the tub.

  “May I, mistress?” I asked, awaiting permission before I joined her.

  She nodded, seeming suddenly overcome with the situation. There were times with Mistress Jessica where I felt as though she issued commands without ever truly believing they would happen, with little of the convi
ction of a true dominant. And when they finally did, she became flustered and nervous. This was one of those times.

  She sat up and shuffled forwards in the tub, then I lifted my leg and stepped into the water behind her. I lowered myself down, threading my legs down the sides of hers and wrapping myself around her. Our wet skin slid together and I felt her shudder as we touched.

  “May I wash you mistress?” I asked.

  She nodded, but didn’t speak. Instead, she lifted her long blonde hair off her back and revealed her neck to me. Taking hold of the bar of soap and a sponge, I worked up a lather, then gently dabbed her back with it, spreading the fragrant suds over her body. Then I used my hands to massage the cream into her skin, working my way up her spine to her neck.

  She sighed as I touched her, melting in my hands. I reached underneath her arms and she obligingly lifted them both behind her head, allowing me free access to her front. With soapy hands, I worked the lather into her breasts. Her nipples were rock hard, tiny bullets of sensitivity. Playfully, I tweaked them with my fingers and she gasped, pushing her body back into mine.

  Her head fell back and rested on my shoulder, then she looked up at me expectantly, her lips slightly parted. Reading her intent, I leaned forwards and kissed her mouth, teasing her with my tongue as I continued to massage her firm breasts. She sank into me, utterly powerless in my arms. For that moment, she was a servant to her servant and I played it for all it was worth.

  I lowered one of my hands into the water and found my way between her legs. Then with small motions of my fingertips, began to work her pussy lips. First I ran my middle and index finger down through her fleshy folds, finding her eager hole. Then I pulled back and up to find her throbbing clitoris. I settled there and between to press lightly, moving my fingers in tight circles.

  “Ooooh,” she moaned, writhing in my arms. The sensation of our bodies sliding together was electrifying, sending ripples of pleasure outwards from my own pussy and down my arms and legs. I felt my own desire building, suddenly overtaken with an uncontrollable need to control this young girl, to use her body. It ran contrary to my maid training, but some feelings just cannot be suppressed. I kissed her harder, pushing my tongue forwards into her mouth and probing her hungrily. She fought back, spurred on by the arousal from her pussy and breast. She pushed against my tongue with her own and the two rolled together between us. Her hand came up to grip the side of my head, an involuntary gesture from the depths of her pleasure.

  I began to work my fingers harder, pushing on her clitoris with an intensity that was fueled by my own longing. With my other hand, I roughly squeezed her breast, catching her nipple between my thumb and forefinger and tugging at it.

  Her leg kicked out, splashing water out of the tub to the bathroom floor, and she moaned her approval. She was kissing hard now, holding my head in place and devouring my lips with hers. It was all that I could do to hold on to this slippery beauty, but with one hand in her pussy and the other locked on her breast, she couldn’t go far.

  I felt a change in her as I quickened my pace. She pulled away from my mouth and lingered before me, our lips barely touching. I felt her warm breath on my face; short gasps of pure pleasure. She moaned and thrashed in the water. Faster and faster I moved my fingers, harder and harder I squeezed. She felt like a puppet under my control, every move I made solicited a different reaction. It was almost overwhelmingly arousing for me and I thrust my hips against her body, desperate to find purchase and satisfy my own throbbing clit.

  Then finally, her body tensed. She pushed up out of the water and her mouth fell open in a silent scream. I held onto her, unable or unwilling to let her go. Her fingers tightened around my head, gripping my hair and ear. And then it was over. She settled back into the water, sprawling in front of me and breathing heavily. I embraced her with my arms, finally leaving behind the warm sanctuary of her sweet pussy. She gripped my forearms, her body shivering uncontrollably.

  In time, her breathing became regular and she opened her eyes, blinking as though awakening from an endless sleep. She peered up at me, a look of pure relaxation on her face.

  “I… I think I’m clean now Cassandra. You may leave,” she said with a smile.

  Chapter 3

  With Mistress Jessica bathed and ready, I set about the day’s household tasks. My first job was to prepare breakfast for the mistresses. This was a simple enough task, coffee and muesli for the most part, though Mistress Melinda had me prepare a grapefruit for her as well.

  As they ate, Mistress Melinda and Mistress Jessica chatted about what they would be doing that day. While Mistress Jessica was be heading into town for her charity meeting, Mistress Melinda would be home all day, enjoying a quiet birthday with an infrequent day off work. They fell into a casual conversation about aspects of their lives that I had no idea about. It was relaxed and intimate, full of inside jokes and private details, the kind of conversation that lovers have every day of the week.

  I stood in the kitchen, hands folded in front of me, head slightly bowed, listening to my two new mistresses talk. I found it fascinating to try to determine the power dynamic between the two women.

  They were, unquestionably, two wholly distinct personalities. Mistress Jessica, on the one hand, was loud and extrovert, but ultimately quite self-conscious and unsure of herself. I thought about the way that I had controlled our steamy encounter in the bathroom earlier. It had almost felt as though I was the dominant one. Mistress Melinda, on the other hand, was more difficult to pin down. She was quieter, more precise, but confident and sure of herself. When she spoke, it was clear that she expected action.

  There was also something about the way that she spoke to Mistress Jessica. Something almost intangible, yet surely present. When Mistress Jessica expressed a weakness or self-doubt, Mistress Melinda would lightly scold her, employing a stern tone of voice that reminded me, very slightly, of Miss Foster and her reprimanding tone.

  I shrugged to myself. It was not my place to second guess my mistresses, it was my place to be their obedient servant and nothing more.

  ---

  At ten o’clock, Mistress Jessica headed out for her meeting. The young mistress had dressed appropriately for the appointment, I noticed. There was none of the society princess from the night before about her. Instead, she wore an entirely smart and well made business suit, with a tight, knee-length lavender skirt and matching jacket. Her cascading hair was arranged in a neat ponytail and her shoes were sensible, albeit still fairly high. She looked amazing, and Mistress Melinda clearly agreed, grabbing her roughly in the hallway as she was about to leave and kissing her deeply.

  Mistress Jessica eventually pulled away and frowned. “Oh Mel, I’ll have to do my lipstick again! I’m going to be so late.”

  Mistress Melinda grinned at her and tapped her ass with the palm of her hand, “Sorry honey, couldn’t resist. You know how you make me feel.”

  Mistress Jessica blushed and headed off to the bathroom to fix her makeup, then with a cheery wave, left the apartment.

  I set to work. First, I loaded the laundry into the machine. As I sorted the delicate garments, I played a mental game with myself. For each piece of lingerie or hosiery, I tried to assign it to one of the two women. A flimsy camisole top, white, with a lacy trim - Mistress Jessica. A black g-string pantie, plain and functional, but sexy as hell - Mistress Melinda.

  My next task was to clean the apartment. I decided to start in the living room, since it was the biggest room in the spacious penthouse. I gathered my cleaning supplies and made my way there. To my surprise, Mistress Melinda was sitting on the long, leather sofa, idly flicking through a glossy magazine. She was wearing a simple, white vest top and red, checked PJ bottoms, and appeared to be enjoying her day off.

  “Excuse mistress,” I asked timidly, “would you mind if I cleaned in here?”

  The mistress looked up from her magazine and smiled at me. “Not at all Cassandra, please go ahead.”

  The
re was something about the way she replied to me, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Her warm smile and pleasant tone of voice seemed to me to be just a facade, a thin veneer that hid something else. A mild note of annoyance, perhaps, or something else, something more sinister? It was impossible to tell, so I continued with my work.

  First, I needed to dust the shelves. I had a feather duster for this purpose and set about cleaning the various items and artefacts that were the tangible record of the couple’s lives. Rows of books about health and beauty, or countless celebrity biographies. I assumed these belonged to Mistress Jessica. Then several shelves with meaty tomes on the subject of philosophy or politics. Critique of Pure Reason by Immanuel Kant, The 120 Days Of Sodom by Marquis De Sade.

  I lingered on these works, mentally assigning them to Mistress Melinda. In particular, I gazed at the De Sade book, trying to fit that into what I knew so far about the couple…

  “Cassandra, could you make sure you dust the lower shelves please? Please bend at your waist to do this.”

  My thoughts were interrupted by the request from Mistress Melinda.

  “Y-yes, mistress,” I replied, suddenly feeling a little exposed and uncertain in the company of the enigmatic, confident woman. I managed to gather myself together and bent over to dust the lower shelves. I felt a cool breeze on my pussy as my dress lifted to reveal myself, and the hot weight of Mistress Melinda’s stare on me. It was thrilling and perturbing at the same time. It seemed obvious to me that she intended to explore her new toy this morning.

  “Good, very good,” drawled the mistress from behind me, “now why don’t you reach behind yourself and play with your pussy?”

  “Yes, mistress,” I replied.

  Still in the bending position, I reached a hand behind me and extended my index and middle finger, then lightly pushed them into my lips. I took it easy at first as I was not particularly wet, but slowly worked my hand back and forward, squeezing my labia between the two digits and gradually building the feelings of pleasure.