Lesbian Maid Mega Bundle

by Ella Ford

  Slowly, I started to stand up, eager to return to the living room, to recover my wits and consider the ramifications of what had happened. I stepped back and turned to leave, when, suddenly, one of the hallway floorboards made a loud creaking sound. I stopped dead, sure that I would be heard.

  “I-Is someone there?” Hanako cried out from the bedroom. Her voice was breathless and faint, shot through with exhaustion and fear.

  I considered calling back, but was unable to make my mouth work. Instead, I hurriedly dashed down the hallway to the living room and collapsed on the sofa, grabbing my discarded book with no intention of reading it.

  ---

  Somehow, the rest of the day passed by without incident. I returned to my book, barely seeing the words before me, my mind racing with thoughts that were sordid and outrageous. Meanwhile, Hanako set about her tasks once more, acting as if nothing had happened. An hour after that erotic scene, she emerged from the hallway into the living room and didn’t even make eye contact with me. I studied her face as she stepped across the room, but could see no signs of shame or remorse or embarrassment.

  Did she know that I had seen her? Was she waiting for me to do something? Or did she think she’d gotten away with it?

  I began to sense something different inside myself. As my mind cooled from the intensity of pleasure, I felt something else. A kind of anger, a feeling of violation, of betrayal. Hanako had disobeyed me, she’d strayed from her rota and intruded into my private things. Regardless of how arousing I found the act, her sordid use of my undergarments was nevertheless an act of wilful rebellion that I found hard to tolerate.

  As I look back now, I realize that this feeling was one of manufactured outrage. Almost as though my deepest desires were finding an excuse to be embraced, a reason to grip me in their lustful intent. That strong desire to dominate Hanako, to treat her as an object or a possession purely for my use and pleasure, wanted nothing more than to use this incident as a point of emergence. And I was surrendering to it wholeheartedly.

  I sat on the sofa and silently fumed, my thoughts swirling around in my head, desperate for escape. Then suddenly, there was a crash from the kitchen, a cacophonous sound of breaking glass.

  I lept to my feet and bounded across the room in a handful of strides. As I stepped into the kitchen, I found Hanako kneeling before the oven, her legs splayed to either side of her. Surrounding her on the floor were the shattered remains of a casserole dish and the messy contents that it had contained. Hanako glanced up at me, her face a mask of pure despair.

  “Miss, I… I sorry,” she wailed, her normally impeccable English lapsing somewhat.

  I looked around, surveying the mess and destruction. It was obviously an accident, and the dish was not even remotely expensive. Yet I felt myself giving in to a different urge. The intense feeling of anger that had been percolating within me as I considered our earlier encounter bubbled and boiled, clouding my thoughts and making me see red.

  I breathed through my nose, snorting my anger loudly. My face flushed and my hands started to tremble. I steadied myself, containing the mounting rage that was so obviously disproportionate to this facile incident.

  “Hanako,” I said, with as much calmness as I could muster, “I want to you to clean up this mess and then come into the living room so that we can discuss what has happened. Do you understand?”

  Hanako nodded timidly, then set about picking up the larger pieces of broken glass. I breathed out, collected myself, then turned and left the kitchen.

  Still retaining my outer calm, yet boiling inside with an unarticulated rage, I walked through the living room and into the hallway. Without thinking, I entered my bedroom and selected an outfit from my large, walk-in wardrobe. I knew what I had to do, what I wanted to do so very, very badly, and I knew that I needed to appear the part.

  I selected an olive business suit and black blouse. The skirt of the suit was tight and knee length, it hugged my figure in a most provocative way, yet appeared stern and professional. I slipped out of my pyjamas and numbly began to dress, pulling on the tan thigh high stockings and black panties that Hanako had found so deeply arousing earlier. Then I slipped into the suit and blouse, and studied myself in the bedroom mirror.

  I shook my head, not satisfied with how I appeared. My long raven hair fell down around my shoulders and softened the look, not quite what I was going for. So I swept up my hair and pulled it back into a tight bun, arranging it behind my head in a harsh style that made me appear like a headmistress. Perfect.

  When I returned to the living room, Hanako was already standing before the sofa. Her hands were held before her and her head was bowed. She didn’t turn towards me or acknowledge my presence, she simply stared down at the leather couch and awaited my return.

  I felt a familiar rush as I stood in the hallway staring at the young girl. My eyes crawled across her petite body, taking in the curve of her hips of the soft line of her legs. My gaze lingered on her pert bottom, so firm and tight. I shuddered slightly, eager for what was to come, no longer apprehensive or doubtful. There was a tension in the air, an intoxicating blend of fear and desire. I could almost taste it.

  I stepped across the room with bold strides, my sharp heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Still, Hanako didn’t flinch. I brushed past her and caught her scent in my nose, a thrilling combination of subtle perfume and soap. She smelled clean and young, innocent and corruptible. Oh, how I longed to corrupt her.

  I sat down on the soft sofa, sitting up straight and holding my knees together with my hands. I looked up at Hanako, and studied her face. She appeared calm, yet slightly nervous. Her eyes were damp with tears, yet I thought I saw a spark of something else in there - longing?

  “Hanako,” I began, steadying my voice with a commanding air that surprised even me, “I’ve been very disappointed with you recently. Do you understand why?”

  “Y-yes, miss,” she stuttered, her gaze fixated on the floor between us.

  “Your mind has obviously not been on your work and you have been openly disrespectful to me. And then this,” I gestured towards the kitchen, “is the final straw.”

  “I-I’m sorry miss,” she said, her voice meek and wavering.

  I sighed and allowed a dramatic pause before I spoke again. “I have half a mind to terminate your employment. What use is a maid who cannot perform simple household tasks?” I asked rhetorically.

  Hanako’s face became a mask of fear. Fresh tears spilled from her eyes and rolled down her pale, porcelain cheeks.

  “But,” I finally continued, “I think that we should see this as a final warning. That you should learn from this and move forward, trying harder next time.”

  Her face visibly relaxed, the tension dropping out of it. “Th-thank you miss, I try my best to please you.”

  I stood to my feet, and straightened my skirt, then stepped towards her, moving to stand behind her. With a tender touch, I stroked her dark hair. Then, without warning, I grabbed her ponytail and pulled her head back until she was staring up at me.

  “However, we can’t escape the fact that you have been a very, very naughty girl, can we Hanako?” I asked, my voice now dripping with a malice that I found slightly uncomfortable. That something so intense should emerge from my mouth disturbed me slightly. Yet I was out of control and in the grip of a base desire that thrilled me at least as much as it repelled me.

  “N-no miss,” Hanako breathed.

  “Very well, then you shall be punished. I shall spank you until you learn that I am your mistress and you are my maid. Disobedience will not be tolerated in this house, you are here to serve me and me only. Do you understand?”

  The young Japanese girl was visibly scared, but made no move to escape from my grip. She nodded lightly, indicating her consent. I released her hair and returned to the sofa, sitting down in the same position I had before.

  “Lay across my lap Hanako, with your feet this side and your hands this side,” I said, gesturing to
either side of my legs.

  Without hesitation, Hanako moved to where I sat and lowered herself to her knees beside me, then stretched her body across my legs and rested her hands palm-down on the floor to my right. She shuffled forwards until she found a comfortable position and then became still.

  My heart was racing. Her body was warm on my lap, her own pulse beating at least as fast as my own. I laid my right hand on her back as if to hold her in place, then moved my left hand to her bottom. Gingerly, I gripped her ass cheek, feeling the taut swell of her beneath the thin material of her dress. I considered striking her through her dress, but was overcome with a strong urge to feel the warmth of her skin on mine.

  Reaching down, I gripped the hem of her dress and roughly pulled it up her legs and over her hips. Then I took hold of the waistband of her sheer black pantyhose and pulled them down, along with her cotton panties, to her knees.

  Her ass was exposed, pale and flawless, two perfect half spheres with a tantalising cleft between them. I lightly brushed my fingertips across her skin and felt her shudder beneath me. With a single digit, I teased down the line of her ass, gently forcing her cheeks apart and plunging past her asshole. She parted her legs slightly, as much as was possible with the pantyhose around her knees. I reached down and pushed the pantyhose lower, then tapped the inside of her thighs, indicating that she should part her legs more. She did as I required, allowing me access to her moist pussy.

  Slowly, with my heart still hammering, I dipped my fingers into her waiting folds. As I touched her wet lips, she gasped and raised her head slightly. I pressed down harder on her back, calming her, then resumed my exploration between her legs. Satisfied that she was sufficiently aroused, I gave her clit a gentle squeeze, then pulled my hand away.

  Back to the task at hand, I cupped my palm on her left ass cheek, stroking her soft skin gently and lightly scratching my manicured nails across it. Then, without warning, I lifted my hand and held it above my head. Her body tensed beneath me, knowing what was about to happen. This level of control thrilled me and I felt a familiar warmth building inside.

  I brought my hand down on her skin. Thwack!

  There was a sharp crack and her body jumped forward, driven by an instinctive urge to escape. I held her in place, then moved my hand to grip her ponytail, holding her head up and back slightly. With my other hand, I resumed the gentle caress of her ass, concentrating on the area that I’d hit her, mixing the pain of the spanking with the pleasure of a light touch.

  Then I raised my hand once more, waited for her body to tense and brought my hand down on her tight ass. Thwack! She jumped again and cried out this time, but she could go nowhere in my firm grip. I heard her sob lightly, and found myself inexplicably thrilled by this.

  My mind raced as I attempted to assimilate what was happening. This young girl, this innocent young thing, had submitted to my authority, given her body over to me to discipline as I saw fit. It was something she wanted, something she needed and now I had complete control over her.

  I raised my hand once more and brought it down, barely hesitating at the apex of my swing, not giving her a chance to ready herself. Thwack! I wanted only to feel her wriggle and squirm in my grip, to sense her pulse quicken, to see her skin became red and warm where I had administered my discipline.

  Again and again I struck her. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! And more the heat inside me built and intensified.

  Then I paused in the spanking and reached between her legs once more. Her pussy was slick with moisture, wet with her pleasure. For all the discomfort and pain, she was clearly enjoying this sensation. I dipped into her labia with my index and middle finger, gripping her clit between them and rubbing it back and forth. Her body tensed once more, but with another emotion this time. She gasped as I frantically worked the throbbing bulge of her clitoris, arching her back in my grip and lifting her head. Her feet thrashed out behind her, the flat black shoes struggling to find purchase on the slippery wooden floor.

  I pulled my hand back, out of her pussy, and with a single movement, swung my arm back and brought it down on her burning ass once more. Thwack! She screamed beneath me, the alternating sensations of pleasure and pain merging inside her to form an irresistible force. Her body shook, I could feel her shiver beneath me.

  Once more, I plunged my fingers into her pussy, pressing down hard on her clit, working my fingertips into quick circles, enjoying the sensation of controlling the girl like a puppet. Her moans intensified, driven forward with every motion of my hand.

  Then suddenly, her entire body tensed one final time. Her legs kicked out and froze in place, her feet bent at the ankle, toes pointed away from us with the animating force of her orgasm. She screamed out, a shrill cry that was equal parts intense pleasure and the discomfort of her burning ass. I held her, redoubling my grip on her hair, eager to ride this wave of pleasure with her. Her thighs pressed together, locking my fingers in place in the dripping folds of her exploding pussy. I made no effort to withdraw.

  At once, she collapsed. I felt the tension drain from her body in an instant. She wilted down on my lap, becoming nothing more than a limp doll across my knees. A residual shudder ran through her body and she panted heavily.

  I allowed her a moment to gather herself, enjoying the sensation of the girl’s small body across my thighs and the soft touch of her skin under my fingertips. Then I pulled back on her hair and gave her a command: “Stand please Hanako.”

  Groggily, she raided herself up from my lap and stood before me. Her face glistened with tiny beads of sweat and tears, and she appeared quite exhausted.

  “Thank you Hanako, that will be all for now. Tonight, we will discuss some extra duties that I require of you. Please be in the living room at eight o’clock sharp,” I said, the tone of command still present in my voice.

  “Y-yes, miss,” Hanako responded with a quivering voice.

  “Oh, and Hanako,” I added as she turned to leave, “don’t wear any clothes.”

  Chapter 4

  The rest of the afternoon passed by in an instant. After dismissing Hanako, I sank back into the sofa, my mind whirling and my heart hammering in my chest. What had just happened? Who had I become? The feeling that had driven me since the incident in the kitchen felt so alien, so out of character for me. But it also felt right and very welcome.

  I could still smell her on me, the light scent of her perfume on my clothes, the musky odor of her wet pussy on my fingers. I played through the scene again and again, second guessing myself, struggling to reconcile the fact that I had just spanked a grown girl and enjoyed every single minute of it.

  And what was to come? I had no idea, having issued the command to Hanako without even thinking. Urged on by the force that had animated me, eager for more, hungry for her with cravings that were new and exotic. Yet, I did not shy away from it - on the contrary, I embraced it, I longed for eight o’clock to roll around with whatever our next encounter had in store.

  Wanting nothing more than to plunge my fingers between my legs and achieve release for the pent up sensations inside me, I somehow managed to resist that sweet temptation and set about busying myself with mundane tasks and idle distractions for the rest of the day.

  ---

  At five before eight, I positioned myself on the sofa in the living room once more and steadied myself. My heart was racing, fueled equally by anticipation and apprehension.

  I was wearing the same outfit as earlier, but had removed the jacket and my panties. The latter had shocked me when I considered not wearing them. In all my adult years, I had never encountered another person, other than my ex-husband, without wearing proper underwear. Yet there was something sordid and forbidden about casting them aside.

  That uncharacteristic act spoke of my intent, of my hungry passion so foreign and new, yet so wholeheartedly embraced. There was no escaping my desire. Tonight, I wanted Hanako, the hot, young Japanese waif who had turned my life upside down, to eat my pussy. And I wanted n
othing to get in the way of that.

  At eight o’clock on the dot, Hanako scurried into the room. She was completely naked, as requested and hurried across the large space with her hands crossed before her pussy and her delicate face bowed down to stare at the floor.

  She stopped before me and I studied her body. Her skin was pale and flawless, porcelain perfection, unsullied by either scar or blemish as far as I could tell. Her breasts were small and inviting, fleshy globes that complemented her tiny body perfectly. Her dark nipples were stiff and pointed. I longed to wrap my lips around those taut buds, to taste and tease them with my eager tongue. But there would be time for that later.

  Between her legs was a rough thatch of soft black hair. It appeared less coarse than my own bush, a downy tuft of delicate curls. She was unshaven, and untended. I wondered if there was a cultural difference between American and Japanese women… I wondered if I might shave her later?

  “Hanako, I’ve been thinking about your role here,” I finally spoke, breaking the silence and interrupting my hungry stare.

  She nodded, but didn’t reply.

  “I’m going to introduce some new tasks for you, duties that I will expect you to perform without question. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, miss,” she replied timidly.

  “First, I expect you to be naked after eight o’clock each night that I am in the apartment. You will wear your uniform during the day, but at night, you will wear nothing.” She nodded along, not a single note of surprise coloring her expression. “Secondly, I shall expect you to make your body available for me to use at all times, is that clear?”

  Again, she nodded, but this time another emotion flashed across her face, so quickly that I almost missed it. What was it? Excitement? Relief? Arousal? Perhaps a little of each?

  “If I wish you to pleasure me, I only have to ask. If I wish to look at you, then you will make yourself available. If I with to eat dinner out of your pussy, then you will happily climb up onto the table.”