by Ella Ford
They endured this for five long minutes, then Ms. Klein mischievously started making exaggerated motions with her fingers across the dials and buttons of the control units. Nikki and Kaitlyn readied themselves, eyes held shut. The speed changed, faster now, different. A more intense vibration mixed with a hint of rotation.
Nikki gasped as she felt the length swirl around her pussy, pressing on the soft walls and transferring its strong vibration to her clit. She reached out a hand and grabbed Kaitlyn’s upper arm, desperate to steady herself. Kaitlyn did the same, her head bowed forward spilling her long blonde hair between them in a honey cascade.
“Oh, God!” cried Nikki, panting heavily. She struggled to find a comfortable place in the relentless motion of the shaft within her. The intense feelings washing over her only increased, there was seemingly no plateau. She thought it might be getting away from her, that she might lose control. Then suddenly, it evened off, a constant warmth radiating out of her pussy to her belly and limbs. She sighed, her breath coming in slow, sharp gasps. Her skin was slick with sweat, as was Kaitlyn’s. Nikki glanced across and saw the other girl throw her head back as she fought to control the raging fever. Nikki gripped her arm, desperate to calm the girl. Slowly, excruciatingly, she too found the rhythm, her body rocking backwards and forwards. She swept her hand through her long hair, tossing it behind her and flashed a smile at Nikki, face glistening in the dim light.
Ms. Klein smiled, “Very good girls. I can tell that you must be very eager to please your mistress. How about we find out just how eager you are?” She flicked the dial once again.
Nikki felt the vibration change once more, no longer constant but coming in rhythmic pulses. Strong bursts of intensity followed by low humming. The rotation continued, wider this time, pushing harder on her tired hole. Each pulse sent waves of pleasure through Nikki, electrifying her body. She tensed, seeing that point of no return that her body craved looming up on the horizon. She was filled with the urge to run towards it, to embrace it, to release herself into the energy of the climax and let it take her body where it wanted. Her other hand reached out for Kaitlyn, grabbing the back of her neck. She pulled her close, mouth’s inches apart. She held her there, relishing the warmth of her short breaths on her face. Her face radiated heat, she seemed lost in her own struggle and barely noticed Nikki.
Nikki kissed her, no tender preamble now, she pressed their mouths together with a savage hunger. Kaitlyn parted her mouth, her tongue darted out to meet Nikki’s and they dueled together for endless seconds. Nikki probed forward, licking Kaitlyn’s mouth, her cheeks, her nose. She craved the salty taste of the girl’s sweat, drank the warmth of her arousal inside herself. Kaitlyn’s hands rose to Nikki’s breasts, roughly massaging the tender flesh.
Her mind raced. She was close now. The touch of the other girl and the relentless rhythm within her pussy threatened to push her over the edge. She struggled to retain focus, thought only of her mistress and the sweet taste of her warm lips. She longed for this, longed to be allowed to please her. But the very thought of this pushed her closer. The erotic energy of Ms. Klein’s being inflaming her desires, washing over her and compounding the pleasure she already felt.
Too late, she realised that she had lost control of this raging bull. She fought valiantly to regain her grip, but it was lost now, a matter of seconds before she was cast aside. She squeezed her thighs once more, afraid to embrace the climax, yet more afraid that she might lose its wonderful intensity.
It struck her, instantaneous and violent. The peak of her arousal filled her body, spreading like wildfire down her arms, her legs, her fingers and toes. She threw her head back, unable to control her motions, a puppet on the strings of her desires. Her body rocked, she screamed, falling forwards onto Kaitlyn.
Distantly, she was aware of Kaitlyn succumbing as well. The girl tensed against her, pulling her inwards, her skin slippery and wet as it pressed against Nikki’s. A fleeting thought rose through the maelstrom to flash into her mind: Did I win?
The monstrous cacophony between her legs ceased. She collapsed into Kaitlyn’s arms, her body limp with exertion. She rested her head on her shoulder, breathing deeply and drinking in the scent of the other girl’s soft hair and sweat.
Mistress finally spoke, “Let’s call it a draw!”
---
Ms. Klein allowed the girls a time to recover. She rose and left the room, leaving her maids to gather themselves before the main course. Nikki forced her body into action, pulling herself up off the device, shuddering at the emptiness that its absence caused. Kaitlyn was doing the same, her hair was wild and unruly, sticking to her damp forehead and cheeks in curled locks. Nikki thought she looked wonderful, glowing with fulfillment and satisfaction. She longed to touch her body, to taste her.
They placed the devices to one side and fussed over themselves for ten minutes. They straightened their stockings, recovered shoes that were tossed aside in their orgasmic thrashings and wiped away smudged lipstick. Nikki helped Kaitlyn fix her hair, pulling it back into a loose ponytail. Kaitlyn did the same for her.
Satisfied that they were ready for their mistress, the two girls returned to the rug and knelt there.
Half an hour passed and Ms. Klein finally returned. She was naked now, her toned body lithe and graceful as she confidently stepped back into the room. Her dark hair was down around her shoulders, not held up in her usual serious bun. She looked quite beautiful Nikki thought, delicate and demure, not stern and businesslike as she typically would be during their sessions. Nikki eyed her hungrily, she longed to worship this elegant woman, longed to taste her, to touch her perfect skin.
The mistress approached her maids, crouching before them and stroking their cheeks. Her eyes were filled with love and burned with desire. Her behaviour was very different from normal, Nikki noticed, yet lost the thought in the tender gaze of her owner. Leaning forward, Ms. Klein kissed each girl in turn. The kiss was neither rough nor probing, it didn’t demand anything. Their lips touched for the briefest of moments. Nikki’s heart melted. She felt such devotion to this strange woman, such a strong feeling of wanting her and needing to be wanted in return.
Ms. Klein turned and walked to the corner sofa. She sat with her back against the cushions in the corner of the L, pulling her legs up and spreading them open. Her pussy was smooth, like those of her maids, the damp flesh glistened in the low lighting. She parted her lips with her fingers, playfully caressing her clit, never taking her eyes off the kneeling girls.
She beckoned them forwards, seductive eyes signalling her intent. They crawled across the room, hypnotised by her stare. Kaitlyn took the mistress’ foot in her hand and lowered her mouth to the soft skin. With glacial precision she kissed the soft curve of her arch, drew her tongue across the tips of her toes. Her mouth moved to her ankle and began its slow ascent up the smooth leg.
Nikki was more bold. She reached the sofa and pulled herself onto the cushion beside Ms. Klein’s exposed body. She leaned forwards, never breaking eye contact with her owner. Their mouths met in a tender kiss, soft and fleeting as before. She closed her eyes, and let her lust guide her, feeling her way across Ms. Klein’s lips with her tongue, gauging her responses. Nikki’s hand brushed across the older woman’s perky breasts, felt the aching hardness of her nipples on her finger tips. She settled there for a while, playfully rolling the hard nub between her thumb and forefinger. Her kisses were harder now, provoking a response from Ms. Klein. She moaned beneath her, body arching into the soft sofa.
Nikki felt Ms. Klein gasp suddenly. Glancing behind her, she saw that Kaitlyn had reached her destination. The new maid had lifted Ms. Klein’s legs onto her shoulders and buried her face deep into her pussy. As she watched, Kaitlyn glanced upwards, her quizzical eyes demanding confirmation, reassurance from her teacher and mistress that her actions were appropriate. Nikki nodded and smiled, and turned back to continue her kiss.
Ms. Klein writhed now, bending her legs and draggin
g her bare heels up Kaitlyn’s back. Her tongue greedily probed Nikki’s mouth, lapping at her lips and face. Nikki responded by squeezing her breasts, massaging the small tits in her firm grasp. With her other hand, she gripped Ms. Klein’s head, locking their mouths together. Nikki had never been this forceful and controlling with her mistress before, never manipulated and restrained her this way. The thought thrilled her. Her time dominating Kaitlyn had introduced her to different side of herself, a side that craved to possess rather than be possessed. Her free hand fell to her own pussy, felt the familiar warmth of her wet lips. It set to work, rubbing and pressing her swollen clit, ripples of pleasure coursing through her body, heightening already aroused senses.
Through the hazy fog of her lustful trance she heard Kaitlyn’s moans mixing with Ms. Klein’s and her own. Dirty minx, she thought from somewhere else.
She suddenly felt Ms. Klein’s tongue harden. Her body tensed and her arms grabbed at Nikki. From below, Kaitlyn gasped as Ms. Klein’s thighs held her head tightly, pulling her deeper into her warmth. The energy of Ms. Klein’s orgasm surged through all three of them, spilling out of her mouth, her pussy, from the very pores of her skin. Nikki felt it as a distant tremor, building in strength and filling her body with frantic energy. She wailed, never wanting the moment to end, never wanting Ms. Klein to let her go, and then her mind shattered into a billion pieces as the orgasm broke over her.
“Oh. My God!” she wailed, head thrashing back and forth at the unrelenting intensity. The heat in her body. The warm flesh beneath her. The thrill of submission and the power of dominance. She was lost to it all, drowning in a bottomless ocean, never wanting to surface, never wanting respite.
Epilogue
It was late and Nikki was unable to sleep. She lay alongside Kaitlyn in the maid’s bed, snug against her back as the other girl dozed. Nikki pulled her close, her arm wrapping around her body and cupping her naked breast. She sighed, craving sleep yet unable to quiet her fitful mind.
For the last few weeks, since Kaitlyn’s probation ended, Nikki’s thoughts had been alive with unfamiliar thoughts. As the training period ended, she’d slipped back into her role as maid easily, welcoming the return to servitude and obedience. She and Kaitlyn worked well together, their electric sexual chemistry bringing the mistress to heights of rapture on an almost daily basis. Yet Nikki found herself wanting more.
She dutifully followed Ms. Klein’s directions during their sessions, but found herself eyeing Kaitlyn with covetous eyes. She fantasised about what it would be like to own her, to take her and possess every aspect of her being. What it would be like to direct her for her own pleasure, having the girl act out her every sordid whim?
She knew that this was wrong. She was a submissive. Her nature was to submit, not to dominate. If Ms. Klein knew that she was having these thoughts, then she would surely punish her, or cast her out completely. Yet it was Ms. Klein herself who had set this compulsion in motion. In giving her the month with Kaitlyn, giving her the taste of such power, she had ignited something within her.
The seed had taken root in her mind, germinating in the heat of their passion and flowering uncontrollably until its wispy tendrils crawled across every thought, every waking moment tinged by this lustful urge for control.
She cast it aside, pushed it deep within her. She pulled Kaitlyn closer in the bed, concentrating only on the clean smell of her hair or the soft beating of her heart. She willed herself into sleep.
Yet still the thought remained. Slowly, unstoppably, she formulated a plan.
THE END
Maid To Submit
by Ella Ford
Prologue
My name is Cassie Cook. I am a maid in the service of Miss Katherine Foster, my mistress.
My mistress owns me, body and soul. I am hers to do with as she pleases. I am her plaything, a toy that she can do what she wants to. I exist at her bidding, and I live to serve and pleasure her. If my mistress asks me to do something, it is not my place to question her, it is only for me to obey her willingly and without hesitation.
If my mistress wishes to use my body, she is entirely free to do so. My body is hers, she may use it as she wishes, whenever she wants. My pussy, my tits, my mouth. Everything that I am, is hers.
If my mistress wishes me to pleasure her, then I will obey without hesitation. It is my honor and privilege to be able to taste her, I live for this.
If my mistress sees fit to punish me, then I will accept it without question. My mistress seeks only to make me a better submissive and sometimes I need to be punished.
My submission is total, my surrender complete. This is my choice and it is one that I make with open eyes and eager heart. The gift of my life is not one that I give lightly, but one that only I can give. And I give it to her, I offer myself daily to her and kneel at her feet.
This may be confusing to you. You may question why a person in the modern world might enter into such a curious arrangement. Why do I and my fellow maids crave the dominance of another, why do we seek to offer ourselves in such a degrading way?
I didn’t fully understand myself, yet the feeling was always within me, I just didn’t realize it at the time.
And so, I offer you my story. Every word of it is true, every sentiment is honest. It is the story of how I offered myself to my mistress, how I became a willing slave in the House Of Submission.
Chapter 1
The taxi drove through the leafy suburbs and out into the affluent gated communities of Chambers Park and I gazed through the window, taking stock of my situation.
Cassie Cook, ace reporter. What a joke. In the seven years that I’d been at the Midtown Tribune the closest I’d got to journalistic notoriety was when the organizer of a wet t-shirt competition soaked me and the contestants I was interviewing. Someone uploaded a video of it to the internet and it went viral overnight. Imagine my amusement when I got into the office the next morning to find that someone had replaced my desk plaque with one that read “Cassie Cook, Busty Correspondant”.
Apart from that, my seven years on the front line of local news reporting had mainly consisted of the weakest stories imaginable - cat saved from tree; farmer eats body weight in blueberries; minor disturbance at seniors bridge tournament.
It would be fair to say that I’d just about given up on the Pulitzer that had been my ambition since the day I published my first article in the middle school newsletter. These days, I’d settle for winning the office lunch club raffle.
I stared out of the taxi cab at the passing neighbourhoods. The endless tract housing estates had thinned out and been replaced by tree-lined streets of spacious McMansions, pristine and white in the shimmering haze of the hot summer day.
Today was my last chance to strike it big. A chance opportunity had landed me with the possibility of an audacious scoop that might, possibly, propel me forwards in my career and give me the recognition I deserved. Alternatively, it might all turn out to be a complete waste of time and I’ll be back to chasing down leads in the on-going “garage sale bandits” story!
It all started the previous day. I was whiling away the hours at work, dreaming of the long bubble bath I was going to have that night, when an email arrived. The sender address triggered a tiny jolt of recognition in my mind so I clicked it open:
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: An opportunity
Ms. Cook,
I hope you don’t mind this unsolicited email, but I wanted to reach out to you directly, without the tedium of PAs and scheduling.
I’d like to invite you to my home and offer you exclusive rights to my story. You will interview me, tell my story as you wish and then publish.
I trust that you realize what an opportunity this presents? If so, please be at home by 3pm on Thursday 21st.
Yours sincerely,
Katherine Foster
I read through the email a number of times, unable to be
lieve what I was seeing. Katherine Foster wanted me to interview her? At her house? Oh my god! This was huge! I…
Okay, okay. I’m getting carried away. Let me fill you in on why this was such a big deal to me.
Katherine Foster was the CEO of Foster Pharmaceuticals, the second biggest pharmaceuticals corporation in North America. They were the very definition of “Big Pharma” and Katherine Foster had built the organization up from literally nothing. So, a pretty interesting prospect for an interview right? Powerful business woman, rags to riches story? But that wasn’t why Katherine Foster was really interesting.
For the last three years, Katherine Foster had been mired in a scandal of an entirely unsavoury nature. A scandal that had taken its toll on her company’s share price and really killed her bottom line.
In 2012, a young woman by the name of Charlotte Duval had set out one morning with the intention of interviewing for an internship at Foster Pharma. Duval was 21, fresh out of college and a real all American girl. She had a bright future ahead of her, was expected to go on to do great things... Her family haven’t seen her since that day. She simply disappeared off the face of the earth.
Oh, don’t get me wrong, nobody thinks she was murdered or anything. In fact, her parents got a letter through the mail several days later, written in Duval’s own handwriting. It confirmed that she was safe, for them not to worry and requested that they not come looking for her. Of course, Charlotte’s parents did exactly the opposite and took the letter directly to the police and the whole thing exploded from there.
Pretty soon, other worried parents came forward and the case ballooned to involve six similar incidents - pretty, intelligent, young girls; each girl interviewing at Foster Pharma or one of her subsidiaries; each girl disappearing then or soon after with only the briefest of contact with their friends and family.