by Ella Ford
---
We finally reached the maid’s quarters. A large, plain room with four queen sized beds arranged around the walls. The decor was bland, simple white walls and a functional carpet, while the beds were made with simple white linen.
“Here is where we sleep,” said Elizabeth, closing the door behind us. She moved to stand close to me and placed a warm hand on my upper arm. In the precipitous heels, the other girl was taller than me and I felt tiny before her. She lightly teased her fingers across my skin and I shuddered involuntarily, feeling myself break out in gooseflesh. “I think that you will share a bed with me. Would you like that?” she purred as she caressed my arm.
“I-I guess,” was all I could reply, not sure what was happening here.
Elizabeth stood back from me and crossed her arms in front of her. “Take off your clothes,” she said nonchalantly. She gazed at me, eyes flicking up and down my body. I felt scrutinised by her, and sensed myself beginning to blush.
She spoke again, this time lowering her voice and applying a note of deadly seriousness, “Take your clothes off bitch, or I’ll take them off myself and fuck your useless asshole with my fist. Would you like that?”
I was taken aback by the threat and blinked my surprise. I opened my mouth to protest, “But…”
She stepped forward once more and took my hair roughly in her hand, pulling my head back until I was looking up at her above me. I winced at the pain and raised my hands to push her away. She tightened her grip and I relaxed, realizing that the more I struggled, the more painful it would be.
“Don’t even think about it bitch. Now take your fucking clothes off so I can see what a pretty little pussy the mistress has found this time.”
She relaxed her grip and I felt my shoulders hunch up defensively. Slowly, with trembling hands, I began to unbutton my sleeveless blouse. As I pushed the garment off my shoulders, she studied me, head cocked to one side. The blouse fell to the floor and I unfastened my pants, allowing them to fall as well, then kicking them away with my feet. Next, I stepped out of the sneakers that I wore. I paused, standing there in my white cotton bra and panties. I was suddenly deeply aware of my nakedness and this strange, cruel girl’s eyes upon me.
But I felt something else. As her eyes crawled over my breasts and down my belly, as they lingered on the hot space between my legs, I felt something unexpected. I wanted this, I wanted her to treat me like a possession. It was like no compulsion I had ever experienced. It felt dirty and sordid, but entirely right. My shame and embarrassment, they were paralyzing certainly, but they were also arousing, and I longed for more. More degradation, more objectification. The strange desires warred with the feminist sensibilities in my mind, yet there was no contest really. This is what I wanted, what I’d always wanted.
“Take everything off, hurry up!” Elizabeth scolded, licking her lips with hungry anticipation.
I reached behind myself and unclasped my bra, letting it fall over my shoulders and down my arms to the floor below. I felt the cool air of the room on my hard nipples and I shuddered again. Gathering myself, I reached down and slipped my fingers into my panties and slid them over my hips, and they joined my other clothes on the floor, an untidy pile that seemed a fitting representation of my old life.
I straightened myself up and, anticipating what was needed, crossed my arms behind my back and pushed my chest forward. Elizabeth smirked her approval and stepped towards me. She slowly reached behind me and placed her hand on my ass, then pulled my body close hers. I felt the swell of her breasts push against my shoulder and the overwhelming scent of her perfume fill my nose and inflame my mind. She was so unbearably close and so unfathomably soft.
She glanced down at my rigid nipples, then slowly teased her fingernail over the hard nub, flicking it casually. The sensation was unbelievable and I squirmed in her grip. She tightened her arm and I yielded, relaxing again in her arms.
“Tell me, Cassandra isn’t it?”
“Y-yes,” I stammered.
“Now Cassandra, have you ever been with a woman before?” she purred, lifting her hand to stroke my cheek with the tender touch of her fingertips.
“N-no, no I haven’t,” I breathed, my quivering voice barely a whisper. My heart was pounding, and I felt an alluring warmth spreading through my body.
“Oh my,” said Elizabeth as she bent forward, stopping when our mouths were mere inches apart, “a virgin. My favourite!” I could feel the warmth of her breath on my face, it was sweet and cloying.
She bent further forward and lightly brushed her lips against mine. A jolt of electricity rippled through my body, and I felt myself becoming lightheaded. I gasped and began to fall backwards, my balance shot to hell. Elizabeth tightened her grip and pulled me back, then leaned in again to kiss me deeper. Her lips slid against mine and I felt an intoxicating rush of pleasure. She felt so soft against me, slippery and warm. I felt myself relaxing into her embrace and allowed my lips to part slightly.
With no further encouragement, her tongue flicked out of her mouth and she licked my lips, then pushed into my open mouth. I felt her probe inside me and pushed my own tongue onto hers. They rolled together inside my mouth, dancing a frantic dance as they each vied for ground in this erotic skirmish.
My mind struggled to process these strange sensations. My first kiss with a woman, and it felt so very different to kissing a man. She was soft against me, not rough and textured. Her tongue and mouth tasted different, a heady cocktail that inflamed my desire and made me wish for this feeling to never end. And then there was the circumstance I found myself in. Naked and obedient, held captive by this goddess before me. Unable, unwilling to break free. It was overwhelming, and every sense felt alive.
Then without warning, she broke off the kiss. I blinked several times and attempted to clear my mind, then felt her hands take me by the shoulders and spin me around. Before I could react, she’d grabbed my crossed wrists and was pushing me towards one of the beds. I didn’t attempt to resist and concentrated only on keeping my footing.
We reached the bed and she spun me around again, then gave me a hard shove so that I fell backwards onto the mattress. I gasped as I landed, but before I could gather myself, she was on me, pinning my arms above my head and lowering her mouth to mine to kiss me roughly. I struggled briefly, but surrendered once more as her tongue filled my mouth again.
She pulled back once more and locked her eyes on mine. “Spread your legs bitch, I’m going to take that tight cunt of yours for a test drive.”
My mind reeled, and my body wanted only to roll away from this fevered woman. “B-but the mistress said…” I stammered, using the only defence that I would think of.
“Never mind what that dried up old sow said. In this room, you belong to me and if I want to eat your fucking pussy, then you’ll damn well do as I fucking please.”
She moved down my body and kneeled between my legs. I realized that I had parted them on her command, yet wasn’t really surprised. The way she spoke to me, the tone of her voice, the filthy words and expectations. It was like catnip to me, and my entire body raged with feelings of pure pleasure. I wanted her to take me, I wanted her to use me like a toy, a possession. I surrendered myself willingly to her and inwardly urged her to abuse me in whatever way she wanted.
She looked me in the eyes, her face a mix of hunger and anticipation. “Good girl,” she purred demurely, “now let’s see what we’ve got down here.”
She reached down between my legs and plunged her fingers into my waiting lips. I gasped as she touched me, tiny jolts of pleasure shooting up from my pussy and down my legs.
“Oh my, Cassandra,” she said with a smirk, “you’re very wet. I can’t wait to taste you.”
I nodded, desperate for her to get on with it, for her to take me in her mouth and force her tongue into me. Instead, she teased her fingers back and forth on my pussy, lightly squeezing my clitoris between her middle fingers. She seemed to know my body better than I
knew it, and hit me in just the right places. I moaned at her touch, squeezing my eyes together and pushing my head back into the soft bed linen. I couldn’t quite believe that this was happening.
Then distantly, I became aware of a new sensation. A warm wetness on my already hot pussy. I opened my eyes and glanced downwards. Elizabeth had lowered herself to the bed and her head was between my legs, mouth locked on my pussy. I moaned as we made eye contact and urged her on with my gaze. I longed to reach down and grab her head, forcing her deeper into my pussy, but I knew that I must not. Instead, I closed my eyes and relaxed into the relentless waves of pleasure that were sweeping up from my midsection.
She took it easy at first, lightly kissing my lips and the surrounding area. Each touch of her mouth was like fire on my skin, and a growing anticipation filled my entire pussy with a gentle throb. Then slowly, she began to draw her tongue through the complex folds of my labia, pressing the flat of it onto my clitoris with tender pressure. It was overwhelming, and I struggled to control myself. Then she settled on my clit and began to move the tip of her tongue around that throbbing nub in tiny swirls, changing direction and rhythm every few seconds.
I was panting now, moaning my delight with every touch. I glanced down at her and found her to be staring back at me still, studying my face for signs of a response, adjusting her attention to match my growing excitement. I lost myself in those beautiful blue eyes for just a few seconds and allowed the growing beat of my climax to build in my body.
It started as a tiny note of white noise, barely sensed yet inexplicably real. It built from there, filling my pussy and spreading out into my belly and down my arms and legs. I released myself into it, drawing it upwards and focusing my attention on the building pleasure.
Sensing my growing arousal, Elizabeth quickened the pace of her tongue, wrapping her arms around my thighs and pulling herself forwards until her mouth pressed on my clitoris with an unrelenting pressure that forced me onwards towards the inevitability of my orgasm. I gasped as she sucked my labia into her mouth and roughly licked at the mass of sensitive flesh.
Then it became too much. The orgasm reached a startling crescendo then broke apart into a million bolts of pure, intense pleasure. My body bucked, back arching upwards, head cast backwards. I felt my neck bulge as I struggled to contain the intense feelings that blasted through my entire body. Elizabeth tightened her grip on my thighs once more, desperate to ride the climax with me. I began to black out as the sheer ecstasy of the moment overwhelmed me and the tension in my body reached a breaking point. I felt as though I could not escape this ever-escalating feeling of utter joy, and withdrawing into oblivion was my only option…
And then the feeling began to recede, the tide of my desire pulling back and releasing my ruined body. I collapsed to the bed, gasping at the absence of intensity. My legs fell apart, my arms fell limply by my side and the animating force seemed to leave my body. I lay there, a spent cartridge from the shotgun of my lust.
“What the fuck is going on?” a voice suddenly cried, stern and commanding and deeply angry. I blinked hard and struggled to gather my exhausted body and mind together. I sensed Elizabeth jump up from between my legs and clambered off the bed to stand beside it. As my sight returned, I saw a figure by the door swim into focus. It was Katherine Foster, our mistress and she looked pissed.
“What the fuck did I tell you Elizabeth? What the fuck was my one instruction to you?” she spat, her voice hot with venom and brimming over with barely concealed rage.
Elizabeth quivered before her, eyes held downwards, not meeting her gaze. “I-I, I’m sorry m-mistress, I didn’t mean to…”
“You didn’t mean to what? To fuck the new girl? Did you just trip and accidentally stick your tongue up her cunt?” she raged.
Elizabeth didn’t answer, instead choosing to remain completely silent. I sensed a capitulation in her, a surrender that mirrored my own. As I watched, she folded her arms behind her back and adopted the submissive pose.
The mistress fell silent, studying the two of us. I suddenly felt deeply exposed, and shited on the bed to close my legs and cover my wet pussy.
Then suddenly, the anger left the mistress’s face. Rage faded to be replaced by a haunting look of controlled determination. She spoke again, her voice quieter now, but still laced with an undercurrent of venomous cruelty. “Very well. Elizabeth, you’ve proved time and again that you can’t be trusted. Prepare yourselves for playtime as usual, but tonight there will be a punishment.”
Chapter 4
Several hours later, I found myself standing in yet another room in the vast house of Katherine Foster. Unlike the other rooms, this one was not the kind that you might find in an ordinary American home, at least not to my knowledge.
After the confrontation with the mistress earlier, Elizabeth had withdrawn into herself. Acting in an almost robotic fashion, she’d directed me to prepare according to the mistress’s wishes. First, she’d taken me to the bathroom and calmly instructed me to shower and wash. As I was doing so, she’d passed in a razor and directed me to shave myself until it was perfectly bald. I did as requested, carefully removing any hair from myself until my pussy was a perfectly smooth mound that it hadn’t been since I was twelve. I looked down at it, admiring my work and enjoying the feeling of exposed nakedness that it brought.
After showering, we’d returned to the maid’s quarters and Elizabeth had opened a drawer, revealing a collection of silky undergarments. She paused for a second, then selected a pair of sheer black thigh high stockings, which she handed to me, without speaking. She took a pair for herself and we both began to “dress”. Next, she went to the closet in the wall and returned with two pairs of shiny black stiletto pumps. She directed me to sit on the bed and then knelt at my feet, placing a shoe on each one with tender care.
I marvelled at the change in her. Gone was the predatory creature that had taken me before, and in its place was a perfectly obedient slave, a winsome girl with no trace of the fire that had burned within her before. I wondered exactly what a “punishment” would entail. Was I to be punished as well?
After putting on her own heels, Elizabeth had returned to the closet and returned with a plastic box. She set the box down at my feet and rummaged within it. As I watched, she pulled out a pair of ankle cuffs. Thick cylinders of black leather, lined with red fur and wrapped with buckles and straps. Each one had a silver ring attached to it, presumably for securing to something else. She lifted one of my legs and placed one of the cuffs around my ankle. She tightened it until I gasped and then released the pressure slightly until it was snug and tight. She repeated the process on my other ankle and then on my wrists.
Finally, she sat down beside me and directed me to do the same to her, a look of quiet resignation on her face. I gingerly knelt before her and took her foot in my lap, then reached into the box and pulled out another pair of cuffs. As I put them on her ankles, a distant part of me relished the soft touch of the sheer stockings. I felt myself silently amazed by the breadth of new sensations that were flooding my mind on this strange day. The feeling of a woman’s tongue in my mouth and pussy; the soft caress of a nylon stocking; the breathless vertigo of submission and the apprehensive trepidation of our mutual punishment. All of these new feelings, it was almost overwhelming to me.
After preparing ourselves, we’d sat in silence on the bed and awaited our summons. After about half an hour, one of the other girls - Charlotte - had arrived and told us to follow her. Obediently, we both stood and walked after the maid, neither one of us daring to say a word.
She led us through the house once more, back into the hallway and through a small door under one of the staircases. Through the door, she took us down a flight of steps into a basement room. The mistress was waiting there and thanked Charlotte, dismissing her. The other maid looked at us, her face shot with an expression that was equal parts relief and sympathy, then scurried up the stairs as fast as she could on the pointed heels.
Elizabeth and I relaxed into our submissive poses and awaited our fate.
---
As I stood, I glanced around the basement room, taking in my new surroundings and struggling to process what I was seeing. The basement could best be described as a sex dungeon. It was dimly lit by a number of flickering candles, and decorated in dark colors - walls of deep crimson, and dark wood detailing. It all created an oppressive atmosphere that made me feel deeply apprehensive.
Around the walls were various implements and objects that had two purposes in mind - pleasure and pain. There were whips and riding crops, endless metal implements with delicate spikes and points, a whole section of clamps and clips. Then on another wall, a collection of dildos and vibrators that ranged from the comparatively tiny up to the eye wateringly vast. I gulped as I surveyed the collection and wondered, not for the first time today, why I didn’t just get the hell out of there. Yet something held me in place, a curious fascination and a longing for sensation.
In the center of the room was a strange table. It was approximately waist height and formed into a characteristic y-shape. At the top end were a number of straps and clips, and at the two opposite ends, another pair of clips. I wondered what it could be for, though it amazes me now that I could have been so naive.
The mistress stalked around the room, eyeing us with hungry anticipation. She’d changed out of the clothes she had been wearing earlier and had adopted an entirely more appropriate look. She now wore thigh length leather boots and fishnet stockings. On her body, she wore a leather basque that was cut low under her tits and forced them upwards provocatively. Her hair was held back in a severe ponytail and her face was made up with dark colors, deep red lips and smokey eyes. She was every inch the cruel dominatrix that she obviously intended to be.
In her hand she held a flogger, a leather implement that consisted of a long handle that sprouted at one end with a multitude of thin leather straps. As she walked past us, she lightly teased these leather straps against our asses and breasts. I shuddered at this sensation, which was not at all unpleasant. A light tickle, no more, but also the anticipation of rougher kisses from that intimidating tool later on.
