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The light slowly returned to her eyes. Her thoughts returned to her as the blindfold was removed by Clarisse and the straps where being removed by Master Antonio. Her body still felt the ripples of pleasure.
“Oh my God! She said and started to giggle. Her body felt the aching and wariness of her limbs, as they again tasted freedom.
‘That was sooooo good. Thank you Master. Thank you, Mistress.”
Antonio tossed the straps to the floor, leaned over, and took Maggie’s chin in his hand. He turned her head and kissed her deeply. Her eyes closed and relished the tenderness of the moment.
‘I’m glad that you enjoyed it sweet one.” He said lightly slapping her bare ass with the flat of his hand. It sounded harsher then it was. ‘Now get dressed. You have chores to do. Slave to us or not you are still the chambermaid of the Countess de la Fountaine. You must never forget it.”
“No sir, I won’t.”
Master smiled at her once again and gave her bare ass another swat with the flat of his hand the sound echoing of the walls of his bedroom.
“Now go.”
She giggled again and grabbed her clothes from the floor next to the bed. Still feeling flushed from her orgasm and service to her master and mistress she got dresses. She watched with more then a little admiration as her mistress dressed along with her. Clarisse had a toned body. Years of physical labor on the estate had made it tough but it was still soft with the natural curves of a woman.
She turned her gaze from Clarisse to Antonio. She had never seen his body in the light of day before. Covered by his shirt or hidden behind the darkness of a blindfold, it was still a mystery to her eyes. Her elation turned to wonder before becoming heartbreak.
Antonio’s body was a labyrinth of scars. Lines crisscrossed his back and chest in a tapestry that told a tale of unimaginable pain and suffering. She was horrified at the sight of them for the briefest of moments. The horror became awe. She watched as he dressed. The scars shaped themselves to his movements. It was as if the scars themselves had succumbed to his strength and now bent to his will. She realized that the strength in his voice was but a reflection of the strength that lived in his soul. He held the strength to overcome tremendous pain, adversities, and suffering. He harnessed them like a team of horses and used them to pull him ever forward.
The scars were old. She knew that for him they were always present. Antonio’s body apart from the scars reflected a life of hard labor. It was strong and muscular in a way that only comes from hard manual labor. Even so, his place as the house governor had given him the chance to add on a few extra pounds. His large frame and broad chest hid them well.
She was in awe as practically floated from the room as she set about her chores. She desperately wanted to ask mistress Clarisse about the scars and to learn about her master but she knew that it was not the time or place. Instead, Maggie threw herself into her labors with relish finding secret and erotic meaning in each task. Her heart filled with joy. She found herself singing and even dancing as she worked to complete her work. Despite them all, what she truly desired was to back in the dungeon tied to the wooden table that a part of her had decided was home to her soul.
She finished dusting only slightly annoyed at the hands that hand been making marks in the dust on the tabletops and fetched a bucket of soapy water along with a strong horsehair brush. She crawled on her hands and knees and scrubbed the bedroom floor. Each push of the brush across the floor caused her breasts to sway beneath her. Her nipples rubbed against the fabric of her dress with every sideways pass. Every splash of water from her wash bucket reminded her of Clarisse. She pictured Clarisse in her mind bound above her own trapped body. She felt Clarisse’s juices dripping down on her hot skin. Maggie’s dress become wet both from the water of the bucket and brush splashing against it and her own dripping sex. The hard wooden base of the brush reminded her of the hardness of the dungeon table and the hardness of her master’s cock and the hardness of his scarred body. She pushed and pulled it across the floor and wished that her hands where holding and stroking his cock.
She found herself pulling the brush back farther then what was necessary so that she could press the backs of her hands and the hard edge of the brush against the mound of her pussy. She spread her knees apart even widen to make more room for her private assault on her sex. The act of scrubbing the floors became for her a private erotic dance. Her breasts swayed. Her nipples rubbed. The water splashed. Her sex dripped. Her knuckles turned white from holding onto the handle desperately. Her breathing became more and more labored. Each part of her body and step in the process of scrubbing the floor became an instrument in her mind. Together they became a symphony that played while her mind painted a picture of her back home on the hard table in the darkness of the dungeon.
“Mmmmmmm.. yes... so hot.. so very very wet.. so wanting.” It was as if a part of her had freed itself from the trappings of her own mind and moved away to watch. It spoke lust-filled words of encouragement. It chanted them in time with the symphony that beat inside her body. Ever slap of the brush, every sway of her breast moving the orchestra closer to the finale. Still that deep powerful voice would return to her mind and tell her no.
Time passed blindly and without thought as she worked her way across the marbled floors that were in her care. She wanted to touch herself... to feel the slickness of her sex, and to make herself cum, but she knew that her master had forbidden it.
“Only a small touch… that would suffice... yes, just the small sliding touch of her finger against her clit? So needed so wanted.. that would make her cum? Surely, no one would see? No one would know?” The lilting chanting voice of an alter ego called her.
Still the powerful deep voice of her master echoed in her mind and kept her hands tightly clenching the handle of the scrub brush. That she could not made her want to even more. Dam him!
“Ahhhh.. even the frustration drives me closer. Only days ago I had been a slave bought and sold. Blindly content in my daily existence and now what have I become?” Her thoughts tried to calm her and block out the orchestra that kept calling to her. “I have made myself a slave to a slave and for what?”
She knew what she had gained pleasure beyond her imagining and more. She had gained power and freedom. Power because it was her choice and hers to take back.
She had found freedom in slavery before but not at first. She had blamed herself for her plight. She had thought that perhaps if she had been a better daughter her parents would have chosen to keep her. Perhaps if she had been a better helper, done more, worked harder somehow her parents would have been able to keep her. Her family would have prospered more and she would have been able to stay.
Clarisse had told her when she first came to the estate that it was fate. It was the way of things as she held her in the dark and stroked her hair as she cried. When she had grown more accustomed to her new life she found that she liked not having to be the one responsible for taking care of the her brother, her sisters, the inn when her father drank to much ale or her mother after she had entertained a traveler in the night. There was freedom in not having to decide the fate of others and freedom in not having to decide on her own fate. Now she had found freedom by giving away her own guilt. She need not feel shame or guilt for the pleasures that her body experienced for it was her master and her mistress that made her body feel and do the things that now consumed her. When they where just fantasies her mind accused herself of all kinds of evils for thinking and feeling them.
Had she been less distracted perhaps she would have paid more attention to her labors or to the increased levels of activity in the house. Instead she listened to the symphony, the siren song, debated her choices and most of all thought of the abyss. She lost herself in thoughts of pain and the pleasures that she had learned the pain could bring. They were such sweet thoughts.
The carefree indulgence of her memories and thoughts reflected in her body as she worked. They were indulgences that would pass unnoticed. Master Antonio enjoyed his pleasures but he was had not achieved such freedoms by being idle, careless, or self-indulgent. He made sure that Clarisse knew her duties as Maggie’s mistress.
It drew no notice from Sophia who was a housemaid along with Clarisse when Clarisse asked her to keep a watchful eye out for Maggie. Sophia was the oldest of the four maids and had been at the estate the longest. She had long straight hair that hung to her arse. Her breasts were large with big dark nipples. The other servants secretly joked about them because when they got hard from the cold or for any other reason the became as thick and long as the end of the other maid’s fingers. The smartest or most capable she was not, but once given a task and having learned it, she was as reliable as the sun was to rise in the morning to complete it. If Clarisse asked, it was for a reason and Clarisse had asked. Sophia therefore made an effort to be more watchful of Maggie as the day progressed.
Sophia’s day passed with nothing unusual disturbing it as she completed her choirs. It wasn’t until the afternoon started to pass into evening that she actually found herself passing by Maggie. Maggie was on her hands and knees scrubbing the mistress’s hardwood floors when she passed by the open door. Mindful of Clarisse’s request she stopped and watched through the doorway as Maggie scrubbed.
Maggie had an odd way of scrubbing the floors she thought. Sophia felt her face begin to flush as she realized that with each backward pull of the brush the top of the brush would slap against Maggie’s body more specifically against her crotch. The expression on Maggie’s face was one of delight rather then pain, and Sophia found her nipples beginning to harden under her dress. She found herself a little envious of Maggie’s creativity. She quietly retreated down the hall that she had just come and began to search for Clarisse.
Exact in her attention to detail, and was ever mindful of her duties. She demonstrated both as she recounted Maggie’s methodology of scrubbing the floors. Clarisse seemed not to notice the hardness of her nipples or the flush in her cheeks as she tattled on Maggie and was only mildly surprised at her news.
Clarisse dismissed her with a thanks and kiss on the cheek. Sophia bowed and turned to walk away when Clarisse stepped behind her and put her arms around Sophia. Clarisse pulled her ample body back to her before beginning to fondle Sophia’s still hard nipples through her dress. Sophia froze. She closed her eyes and began to pant from want.
Sliding one hand down her stomach until she could caress the mound of Sophia’s pussy through her dress, Clarisse leaned forward and whispered into Sophia’s ear. “Continue to be as diligent in your duties to me and I’ll give you a special reward. Would you like that?”
“Yes, Miss Clarisse, I would like that very much.” Sophia groaned in reply.
Clarisse released her hold on Sophia much to Sophia’s disappointment. “Go on now. We’ll see how you do in the next little while.”
Sophia took a moment to collect her self. “I’ll do my very best for you miss Clarisse.”
“I know you will Sophia. You can take the rest of the night off.”
“Thank you Miss Clarisse.”
Clarisse smiled a wicked smile and marveled again at the size of Sophia’s hardened nipples before starting down the hallway towards countess Fountaine’s bedroom.
Sophia made a hastily retreat to her room feeling pleased with her self for a job well done. She quickly closed the door to her room. She pulled her dress over her head, blew out the candle next to her bed and climbed under the covers. Spreading her legs apart even before the flame blew out she plunged three fingers into her drenched pussy. She pictured herself on her hands and knees scrubbing the floors with her newly discovered technique. Clarisse standing above her with her legs spread and her dress pulled up to expose her sex. She relentlessly drove her fingers into her depths letting the palm of her hand slap against the mound of her pussy as she imagined it was the hardness of the brush. Clarisse’s voice saying, “Come get your reward.” Her toes curled and her body shuttered as her orgasm washed over her. She decided that she definitely needed to try that for herself.
Maggie finished the floors and the rest of her chores a little latter then normal. She was hot, horny, and very hungry. Her face wore a mischievous little grin as she went to the kitchen. Clarisse watched from the end of the hall and followed her at a distance unobserved.
Nicolas was an excellent cook and a man of some exploits in the sexual arena both were areas of pride for him. He had always hoped that Maggie would someday be one of those exploits. When Maggie entered the kitchen he again felt that God had chosen to bless him above most men. She was a vision of perfection. Her hair was tussled from work her dress was soaked in the front and her nipples were hard and clear against the wet fabric, even the mound of her pussy held the wetness of the fabric close. She smiled a warming smile and crossed the floor to Nicolas. Her hips swayed just a bit more then usual, and her steps carrying a little extra bounce. She had a feminine confidence that made it self know in that bounce and the sway of her breasts. Aware of her body and the power her womanhood carried more then ever before.
“Sweet Nicolas I’ve been working so hard today and missed the staff meal. Could you pleaassseeeee let me have something to get me through the night?” she said as sweetly as honey. She twisted some strands of hair around her fingers and completed the question with a slight bite of lower lip.
Nicolas found the hardness of his cock becoming uncomfortable. This was a moment that he had hoped and even prayed would happen. He didn’t pray much and wasn’t really sure that this was a moment he should have been asking God to experience.
Unfortunately, the moment was bitter sweet. Antonio had visited him earlier in the afternoon. He had made it clear that he specifically was not to grant Maggie any special privileges from the kitchen regardless of any enticements that might seem to present themselves. Antonio knew all about Nicolas’ and his exploits. He was not going to have his new pet wasted on the likes of the cook.
Maggie stared in disbelief as Nicolas shifted restlessly in front of her and told her no. She lowered her head and looked up at Nicolas with puppy dog eyes, ”But I’m so hungry and your sooo good at what you do. Can’t you just let me have something?”
She put her hands on her stomach for emphasis. The action only helped to pull the wet fabric of her dress tighter against her hard nipples.
He desperately wanted to let her have something, but he had been around the estate a time or two. Antonio had not become the governor by chance. He could be hard and ruthless. Despite his natural inclinations, he resisted. He feared Antonio to much. Instead, he stiffened his shoulders just a bit and told her that he had been too lenient with her already.
She couldn’t believe his change of position especially towards her! Still, she could tell his cock was hard, and she was still to horny and to hungry to relent. She slid one hand down a just a little lower until it rested just above the mound of her pussy as she let her other hand move across her body and up her other arm. Her bent arm pushed her breasts up and increasing the strain against the fabric. She bit her lip once more.
“You’re not going make me go hungry are you?”
Dam the governor. Nicolas thought. Times are changing and it is time to seize the day.
“Well, I suppose a little something won’t hurt.” He said. He moved closer to Maggie and slid his hand across her stomach until it slid under her own as he stepped behind her. Maggie was thinking that she might have pushed Nicolas just a little far, but a part of her liked the feel of his hand sliding across her stomach. She like having it so close to her wet pussy. She closed her eyes and waited.
Maggie’s eyes flew open as Nicolas cried out and he crumbled to the floor.
Antonio had entered the kitchen unnoticed with Clarisse at his side. He struck Nicolas just under his rib cage with a savage blow that drove the wind from Nicolas’ lungs, and sent him to the floor.
Maggie didn’t have time to react as Nicolas fell away from her. Clarisse was on her in an instant. She grabbed her by the back of her hair and her arm behind her back. Clarisse pushed her out of the kitchen an into the hall. Maggie screamed partially from the pain in her arm and from her pulled hair but mostly out of fear. Clarisse let go of her arm, spun her around, and slapped her across the face. The blow sent bursts of light into her eyes as tears began streaming down her cheeks. A burning heat began to fill her skin where Clarisse’s hand had struck.
Pulled by her hair, Maggie found herself following Clarisse towards the dungeon door. She still wasn’t even sure what had even happened. She only had time to see the imposing form of Master Antonio standing over poor Nicolas.
A part of her felt guilty for what had happened to Nicolas. Another part felt beautiful and powerful. Nicolas had always given her special treatment. The way an adult gives special treatment to a child. The kind that makes you smile because of how happy it makes them. This time it had been different. It was what a man shows to a woman. She was a woman and she had begun to realize the power that being her sexuality inherently held, but she lusted for those that could control and harness that power in her. Just like she relished the freedom from guilt.
Pulled ever forward by her hair, she was reminded that Clarisse was one of those that knew how to control that power. Maggie’s body responded to her automatically. Her nipples hardened and her pussy became wet. Her breathing began to shallow and she could feel her heartbeat pounding in her chest. Her bare feet began to descend the cold stone steps towards the dungeons depths. She could smell the sulfur from the burning torches and the growing scent of feminine arousal. The feel of the stone, the pain in her head, and the sensations growing inside her body where enhanced by the memories of the days before. She felt herself cum as she walked. Not the sweet release that she had been fantasying about all day, it was instead the softer tremors that once felt only seemed to tease you into wanting more.
Clarisse's strong hand forced her down into the depths that she had been craving. They passed through the dungeon doors together before Clarisse pushed her forward into the center of the room.
“Strip slut. I want you naked now.”
The harshness command made Maggie jump slightly and sent a shudder through her incensed frame.
Clarisse’s voice was as cold as the stone of the walls, but Maggie welcomed it and hurried to strip and before throwing her cloths into a pile against the wall.
“Get on the table, and lie on your back.”
Her nipples were hard and beginning to ache and she could feel her juices flowing from her sex as she climbed onto the table.
Clarisse didn't speak as she moved towards Maggie.
She took a wooden pole and tied it between Maggie’s wrists forcing them apart.
Maggie’s heart began to rush at the thought of what next for her.
Clarisse then secured the pole to the strap hanging from the beam above. The same strap and beam that Maggie had used to bind herself days before.
Clarisse smiled a small evil smile as she secured a strap too Maggie’s right ankle. She pulled Maggie’s ankle up with the strap and secured it to the pole so that her right wrist and ankle where touching.
“Oh my God.. !!! Yes!” Maggie screamed the word in mind. She was already loosing herself to the passions that had taken over her life.
Clarisse smiled again as she returned to the end of the table with another strap and repeated the procedure with her other ankle.
Maggie could still feel the hardness of the cold table against the small of her back and the top of her ass but her asshole and pussy were fully exposed and her breast where pushed together by her thighs.
Clarisse ran her hand over Maggie’s inner thigh passing to the side of her sex before reaching between her splayed legs and roughly pulling and shifting Maggie’s breasts as she made sure that Maggie’s aching nipples were equally available o her whim.
Maggie could already feel the tingling in her fingertips as the circulation slowed but still let enough blood flow to keep her from harm. She waited for the blind fold and the pain. She wanted it desperately and did not caring why it came.
Clarisse moved to the wall and returned to the end of the table with a two meter long stripped willow branch.
It was the first time since her capture by Antonio in her mistress’s bedroom that a sense of fear began to creep into her thoughts.
“Mistress what about the blind fold?”
“Shut up slut. There will be no blindfold this time. Master gave you a warning before you left his chamber. What was it?”
“Uuuuhhhh...”
“He told you to remember whose chambermaid you were. You seem to have forgotten already. You cleaned like you've never set your hands to the task.”
The willow branch that previously rested against the wall whistled through the air.
Maggie had started to say I'm sorry mistress but it was replaced by a scream.
She found to catch her breath, “I was... just...”
The willow branch whistled again as it arced through the air and hit the back of Maggie’s thigh. Maggie screamed again as the pain shot through her body.
Her mind kept trying to form the words, “I was just so happy at the thought of master and you and what we shared.” They where never uttered as the whistling arc of the willow branch began to blend into the screams that replaced Maggie’s words. Crimson strips creating pattern of interwoven lines up and down the backs of her legs.
Clarisse had withheld some of the force but Maggie couldn't tell. The pain of each blow was searing and instant. Finally, the whistle of the willow branch fell silent. The dungeon filled with the thunderous sounds of Clarisse’s labored breathing, Maggie’s sobbing and the dripping of the water from the wall into the pail below. Clarisse walked to the bucket took a ladle from a wall hook. She scooped out some water and drank her fill before bringing a ladle full to Maggie to drink.
“You must always remember who owns you sweet one.”
Maggie’s breath was still coming in bursts as she tried to focus through the pain. When she was finally able to speak it was only a desperate whisper.
“I will mistress. I swear it won't happen again.”
“It will not sweet one. I will make sure.”
Clarisse stepped away and the awful sound of the willow whistling through the air returned. The blows began to rain down again moving up and down the backs of her legs in random patterns.
Each blow was as searing as the first.
Maggie’s mind began to loose itself in the flashes of pain.
The searing burn of the willow passed from pain into a rhythmic heat that flowed from her every point of the crimson streaks to her sex, and mind in flashes.
Even now, lost in the pain, the dark part of her wanted to be touched. Its dark magic changing the sea of pain into one of superheated passion. It wanted to be touched. It wanted her hands free to touch her herself. It wanted Clarisse to touch her so badly... ooooohhhhh god, yes to be touched now...”
The blows became waves in her ocean of lust. She could feel herself moving closer to the white abyss driven by the flashes of fire from the willow. The waves pushing her closer until just before she pasted in the abyss the blows stop.
“Noooooooo....,” she screamed it again and again desperate for more, desperate for the abyss.
The searing heat slowly turning to pulses of pain. That pushed her farther from the pleasure that had been so close.
Clarisse left Maggie to her own recovery as she went to the wall for more straps. She climbed onto the table above Maggie revealing to Maggie her own wet sex, and the scent of her lust.
Maggie recovered her senses during the respite and opened her eyes. Her eyes blinked against the torchlight and the light layer of smoke that hung in the air to see Clarisse’ exposed sex wet and open before her. “God.. Yes.. ... Yes..,” The words rushing into her mind with thoughts of tasting her mistress.
Maggie began to beg. She begged for forgiveness. She begged for mercy. She begged to please her. She begged until the words were nothing but a rambling incoherent babble.
Clarisse continued to work with the straps above Maggie, refusing to look down at her slave. Her sex desperately wanted the gift of her master’s lust.
Clarisse’s own nipples were aching, and her sex was dripping as she fed her own lust. Maggie begged beneath her.
“Please.... Please...... oohhhh god please... mistress please...”
Maggie didn’t know that Clarisse had been forbidden from taking her own pleasures from her slave until her masters return. Knowing the punishment that would await her Clarisse focused on the straps and completing her task. She climbed from the table returned with Maggie’s clothes.
“NOOOooooooooo...... please... pretty please. I'm begging you.”
The clothes had been soaked in the cold water of the bucket and were now soaked through. Clarisse climbed onto the table again and tied the wet clothes above Maggie with the straps that she had placed there only moments before.
Maggie could feel the water dripping down on her. Drop by cold drop.
The drops fell on her burning skin in excruciating bursts of cold relief before turning to fire as each drop traced a path down the backs of her pain-filled legs.
Clarisse climbed free of the table and without a word and walked to the dungeon’s door before closing it behind her with a finality that seemed to crush all hope in the room.
The echo of the closing door left the room silent again except for Maggie’s breathing and the sound of those damn drops of water into the once delicious bucket. The cold drops still falling relentlessly onto her burning skin.
“Oohhhh god ... please... do not leave me like this..”
Maggie let her head fall back. She was too tired to hold it up any longer. Her thoughts returned to the numbness in her fingers and toes and the pain that pulsed with each drop through her fevered skin.
The cold drops began to form rivulets that rolled down the backs of her legs to brush against the fire that filled the lips of her sex and down to her asshole before forming a puddle on the table beneath her.
Her thoughts turned from the pain to her failure.
She had failed the moment that she was had been freed to her own thoughts. Her eyes began fill with tears. Her mind lost in her failure, and the disappointment that she had brought to her master and mistress. Soon the power of her thoughts replaced the torment of the water and all that her body felt.
She sobbed until she could sob no more. Her tears dried, and all seemed lost. She hung in the flickering light of the torches until her clothes after her clothes had ceased their dripping torment. She had long since closed her eyes to the torch light, and she began to feel alone. It was here in the mists of her despair that the light returned.
It returned in the form of a kiss. A soft sweet gentle kiss brushed against the heat of her legs like the wings of a butterfly. The kisses returned, moving their velvet touch up and down the flaming heat of her legs.
She lifted her head and opened her eyes to see the flicker of light across her master’s face. The flames made his eyes sparkle as he watched her and kissed her.
Her eyes filled with shame and tears returned to them as she felt the weight of her own disappointment come crashing down on her again. His kisses stopped their dance as he reached forward and brushed the tears from her cheeks.
Her lips said, I’m sorry master, but the words were only sobs. Her body shuttered as it fought against her bonds.
His voice, that voice that capture and filled her heart returned in soft reassurance.
“Your punishment is finished sweet one. With the last drop of water came forgiveness. You will remember your owners and your master and need never fear for I have already forgotten the trespass.”
Her tears flowed still but now in joy as he words restored her heart.
His kisses returned to the heat of her legs and turned the aching tenderness of her bruised skin into an unquenchable flame of passion surging through her once again.
His kisses were sweet agony as they tenderly and slowly covered ever inch of her legs and inner thighs. They continued moving down towards her sex passing over her inflamed swollen lips until his tongue pushed forward against her ass. His tongue teased her ass before it slid upward and pushed the lips of her pussy apart moving relentlessly towards the hardness of her clit. Her body shook as her entire being felt each moment of his tongue’s movement. She strained against her bonds un-breathing abandoning all reason.
When his tongue touched her clit it was like a flash of raw savage heat unleashed like a lighting bolt branching from horizon to horizon viscously throwing her over the edge into the abyss with a power beyond any that she experienced, and until all was gone.
Her master released her from her bounds. She moaned in protest as circulation was restored to her fingers and toes but she didn’t wake. He carried her up the secret passage to his bed where he laid her down and covered her still trembling body. It was there that she remained until her mind returned to her and she awoke again.
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