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Rita Sarmah was a 52 year old mother of four from India who the Whitman family employed as a housekeeper and babysitter for their son Andrew. She was 5'4, 196 lbs of full-figured womanliness. She had tightly pursed plum-colored lips, full chipmunk cheeks, and a strong prominent nose. Her hair was jet black and crunchy with hairspray holding together her professionally done curls.
When Andrew got home from school he immediately stripped at the front door. As per Mrs. Sarmah's instructions and donned a pair of pink-trimmed white panties that she required him to carry in his backpack at all times. It was a pair which belonged to her youngest daughter and fit so tight it looked like a thong on Andrew. He put his backpack up in his room before hearing Mrs. Sarmah call for him sharply.
"Andrew! Come here!" Rita's voice screeched from the living room.
Andrew shivered, and walked into his family's living room where their housekeeper had sat all day watching television and eating while relaxing in their massaging recliner. Rita peered at Andrew as he entered the room.
"Yes Ma'am?" Andrew stammered.
"You shit! How many times must I tell you?" Mrs. Sarmah shouted, "You must show me proper respect every time you come!"
"I’m sorry, Ma'am," Andrew replied, walking towards the stout woman and dropping to his hands and knees.
Rita sighed heavily through her nose which made a small whistling noise as the boy bowed to her and touched his forehead to the carpet beneath her elevated feet.
"That is how we do it in my country," Rita said approvingly.
Rita kicked off the white leather loafers she was wearing, which bounced off Andrew’s lowered head. She reached down and pulled off her calf-length athletic socks, and pulled up the legs of her black stretch pants. Her socks had left their pattern on the plump fleshy skin of her feet, ankles, and calves.
"You may now plead to kiss my feet."
Andrew looked up and saw Mrs. Sarmah rubbing her calloused feet together which made a dry, scratchy sound.
"May I kiss your feet, Ma'am?" He asked.
Rita dug through the empty wrappers in a box of chocolates on the armrest of the chair. She found a candy, and took one bite.
"Plead," she said, examining the candy’s filling before pushing the remainder of the piece between her lips and chewing loudly.
Andrew hesitated, staring at the pale, deeply wrinkled soles of Mrs. Sarmah's feet for a moment.
Rita raised her right foot and brought it down hard on top of Andrew's head, making a loud popping sound.
"Plead to me!" She ordered.
"Please!" Andrew whimpered meekly, "Please may I be allowed to kiss your feet Ma'am? They are so beautiful I want to kiss them so much. Please, oh please can I kiss them? I beg you! I'll do anything!"
Rita waved her hand dismissively toward him, and gave a single nod.
She grinned through a mouthful of chocolate while the son of the rich family who kept her employed pressed his lips respectfully against the thick, rough skin of her feet which had sweated so hard in the past keeping the family’s home in top shape.
"You'll do anything for me always," Mrs. Sarmah noted, "Unless you wish for me to tell that rich bitch mother of yours that I found her son stealing her clothes and hiding them in his room!"
Andrew went pale, terrified at Mrs. Sarmah's words.
"I should do that." Rita went on, "Do you know how many times that cunt shouted at me, saying that I kept losing her clothes? Especially the ones she wore while working out? WHAT WOULD I WANT HER SWEATY CLOTHES FOR?"
Andrew trembled beneath Mrs. Sarmah.
"I DID NOT SAY STOP KISSING!" She shouted, smacking Andrew on top of the head with her foot again.
Shaking and feeling light-headed, Andrew showered Mrs. Sarmah's feet with panicked kisses, his heart pounding out of his chest.
"Lick them too!" Rita demanded, "You are disgusting, you are like a dog to me! So lick my feet, dog!"
Andrew immediately stuck out his tongue and tried to satiate the enraged woman with long, pleading licks to every inch of her salty feet.
"Mmm," Rita nodded, settling back some.
"I feel I can use you more before I am done using you," She said.
Andrew kissed Mrs. Sarmah's toes and caressed each one between his lips.
"I enjoy having a slave doing all the work your family pays me to do," Rita groaned contently as the chair's massaging arms went to work, "Even though you come from the damn rich snob family, being my slave could train you to be a good person."
Andrew listened as he suckled tenderly on Mrs. Sarmah's feet.
Her eyes suddenly fluttered open.
"YOU SHOULD THANK ME FOR IT, SHOULD YOU NOT?!?" She snarled at Andrew.
"Y-yes Ma'am," Andrew cowered.
“YOU ARE NOT WORTH EVEN MY SPIT,” Mrs. Sarmah roared, “THANK ME FOR HOW I AM TEACHING YOU, YOU SHIT!”
"T-thank you for making me a better p-person Mrs. Sarmah,” Andrew stuttered.
Rita stared through him with her fiery eyes for several seconds, before suddenly tossing her head back and laughing. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her stretchy pants, raised her hips, and yanked them down along with her panties in one strong motion. She pulled her feet away from Andrew’s face, and completely removed her pants and panties, dropping them on the floor.
“You will please me now,” She said matter-of-factly.
Rita pulled her legs up over the armrests of the recliner, and scooted her hips forward.
“My husband cares not to do this,” Mrs. Sarmah said, “But you will please me how I enjoy it.”
She reached down and pulled the lips of her hairy pussy apart, exposing a large swollen clitoris. She watched Andrew rise up onto his knees and wrinkle his nose as it approached her.
Rita grabbed his hair and yanked him forward until Andrew was buried face deep into the folds of her vagina. His nose and mouth searched desperately for room to breath, and Mrs. Sarmah let his hair go and slapped his face with an opened palm.
“DO NOT DARE TO STOP,” Mrs. Sarmah warned, shaking her finger in Andrew’s face.
“NOW DOG! PLEASE MY BODY!” She said, grabbing him by the ears and yanking his face to her crotch again.
Andrew pressed his mouth into her wet, pungent pussy and went to work licking and sucking on it. Rita moaned and dug her fingers into the leather chair which continued to massage and vibrate beneath her writhing body. She reached down again and pulled her labia apart, giving Andrew’s tongue direct access to flick freely against her hard and slippery clit. Her entire body jiggled as she shook with pleasure. Her legs flexed and kicked up in the air. Andrew continued eating Mrs. Sarmah until his jaw was sore and his mouth felt dry and chaffed.
Rita sat up and turned around to kneel in the chair. She reached back with one hand and pulled one ass cheek apart.
“Here too,” She said.
Reluctantly, Andrew leaned forward and kissed her pimpled, watermelon-sized buttocks gingerly before moving his face slowly between them.
“Lick dog!” Rita shouted impatiently, now reaching back with both hands and prying apart her butt cheeks.
Her cocoa-brown backside looked slick and shiny and was lined with the same wiry pubic hair that had been scouring the flesh of Andrew’s face and mouth. Andrew took a breath and bravely pressed his lips onto Mrs. Sarmah’s asshole, slowly licking the musky opening that flexed intermittently under the circular caresses from his tongue. He worked up enough saliva on his lips and tongue to slide along the stretched skin of the middle-aged woman’s sphincter. Rita clenched her teeth and groaned as she felt the young man suckling like a baby on her gritty, unwashed exit. She reached down and rubbed her clit furiously with one hand, and let out a series of shaky groans as orgasm washed over her. Rita gasped through her teeth, bucking wildly as her entire body flexed and trembled with a million tiny explosions of pleasure.
“Ahhhhh,” Rita moaned blissfully, turning back around in the chair.
“You may clean me now,” She said.
Andrew revisited Mrs. Sarmah’s vagina and carefully licked it dry, combing through her matted pubic hair with his tongue.
Rita’s eyes were half-closed as she enjoyed his oral attentions once more.
"You can go start on the laundry now," She said, recovering from her sexual release, "I brought over all of my own family's laundry too. You can do ours first. I have 4 kids and a husband so it will be a lot. If I find any clothes to be missing, even one sock, you will be sorry."
Andrew nodded.
While the clothes wash, you can go make all the beds. Also you must wash the dishes in the sink, take out the garbage, and clean the bathroom downstairs too. Can you remember it all, stupid dog?"
"Yes Ma'am," Andrew replied.
"THEN GO TO WORK!" Rita jumped, "I do not wish to look at you anymore."
Andrew shuffled to his feet and scampered away.
He spent the next 4 hours washing clothes of his and Mrs. Sarmah's family, ironing them, and folding them. He carried the clothes of the Sarmah family to Rita’s car and set them neatly in her backseat.
Andrew finished all of the housework, which she examined afterward.
"Good," Mrs. Sarmah laughed, "You will be a good wife one day, if there is a man who would marry a stupid dog!"
Rita gave a hearty laugh. Andrew hung his head while Mrs. Sarmah mocked him gleefully.
Rita's ears then perked up.
"GET DRESSED!" She exclaimed, "Your parents are home!"
Andrew panicked, and tripped over himself as he rushed to get up the stairs.
"HURRY!" She shouted, slapping at Andrew and kicking at him while he scurried up the stairs on all fours.
When she heard his door slam shut, she screamed at him not to do that again. Then she collected herself, threw away her empty box of candies in the kitchen, and went to greet the Whitmans at the door.
"Hi Rita!" Mrs. Whitman smiled, exchanging a hug and kiss with her.
Mr. Whitman greeted her with a hug.
"So?" Mrs. Whitman said in a whisper, "How are things working out?"
"Very, very good," Mrs. Sarmah grinned, "Taking your clothes will be the last thing on his mind now. I keep him very busy, and very frightened that I will tell you about his odd behavior."
"Ohhh," Mrs. Whitman sighed, taking Rita's hands in hers and looking into her eyes, "I don't know how to thank you. Thank you SO MUCH for doing this."
Mrs. Whitman kissed the knuckles on Rita's hands.
"It is my pleasure to do so," Rita smiled, "I have four children of my own so I do know how to discipline them."
"I didn't know what I was going to do," Mrs. Whitman said, "I couldn't go on buying new gym clothes every week!"
They all laughed.
“Andrew, come say goodbye to Mrs. Sarmah!" Mrs. Whitman called upstairs.
Andrew opened the door and started down the stairs as Rita slipped her shoes on.
"Goodbye, Mrs. Sarmah," Andrew said after reaching the bottom of the stairs.
"Thank Rita for watching you," Mrs. Whitman told her son.
"Thank you for watching me Mrs. Sarmah," He said, blushing.
"Goodnight Andrew," Rita smiled.
Andrew's parents both said goodnight and told Andrew to walk Rita to her car.
When they were alone by her car, Rita's expression turned cold again.
“I’m leaving now, dog,” she said, standing with her feet together.
Andrew got on all fours, praying that his parents were not looking out the window. He bowed to Mrs. Sarmah, touching his nose to the hard pavement.
“Stay there until I am gone,” She said.
He heard the car door open, and stayed with his head down on his family’s driveway as Rita started the engine, slammed her door, and peeled quickly out of the driveway, never glancing back as she left him smelling the diesel exhaust from her car.
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