The chamber maid

The Chamber Maid

By: the Abbe

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Chapter 1

Maggie was a naughty girl. That is why she found herself chained to the wall of the dungeon hidden beneath the main floor of the Estate of the Count and Countess De la Fountaine. She was still wearing her mistress’ black corset with pink lace and silk stockings. She felt the biting cold of the stone against her back even through the corset. Her nipples were hard and aching from the cold, at least that is what she told herself. She thought that she could feel the oppressive darkness more then any other sensation. It left her lost in her thoughts and the sensations of the shackles and cold. She cursed her stupidity and selfish lusts.

She had not been able to resist the temptation. She had known better. The rules where made clear to her and she had over time proven that she had understood them. She had done well in her position as a chambermaid largely due to the tutelage of Clarisse. 

Clarisse had served the Fontaine house for several years before Madeline or as she preferred Maggie was purchased. Clarisse was strong and quiet but had taken Maggie under her protective wing and helped her through the difficult transition from life as a daughter too life as a servant.

Sold to the Count and Countess La Fontaine at the age of twelve, Maggie’s parents were at risk of loosing everything, their home, their children, and even their own freedom. Selling their eldest daughter to the Count and Countess had assured them that the rest of the family would remain intact. The Fountaine house became their benefactors and thus assured the families survival.

Maggie had been trained first as a housemaid. The labors of the estate were difficult but she had learned hardships early in life. She was the oldest of three and as such had worked hard along side her mother to care for her family. 

It had been an unusual honor that the Countess had chosen such a young girl to be her personal chambermaid. Maggie had thought that it a reward of her hard labors. It brought with it some extra privileges, such as an upstairs bedroom that she shared with the Countess’ two handmaids and a little more free time then the other servants. That was especially true when her mistress was away.

Bound shackled to the stone wall she blamed the free time for getting her there. The Count and Countess had left for the week. She had rushed to finish her daily chores in hopes of finding some time for herself. She was able to finish early and fled the daily routines of her day to take a bath at the bath house. Normally, she would have been limited to using the wash basin in her room and would have washed herself with a wash cloth. It was a special treat for her to be able to enjoy the luxury of being able to lounge in the heated water of the hot springs.

The springs where rare and had made the estate a popular place for the aristocracy to visit. Their visits created extra work for Maggie and the others. She pushed the thoughts of more labors aside as she relished the closest thing to freedom that she had been able to find since she had become a slave. She was actually a ward of the estate due to her parent’s inability to provide for all of the family. It was a nice way of saying slave. If she tried to leave, she would be beaten nearly to death or worse and her. The Count and countess would stop providing support for her family and they would all soon starve. Soaking in the warmth of the water and feeling the smoothness of her body in the water. She found her hands roaming over her breast and the sex. Her mind drifting away and loosing itself in the visions of wanton lust that the handmaid’s had painted for her.

They painted pictures about the countess’ fine cloths and her exploits in amour. She hoped that one day she would be able to become one of the countess’ handmaids and secretly hoped that when she did she would be able to experience some of the things that she pictured from their stories. The fingers of her right hand began to make circles over her clit while the fingers of her left hand began to squeeze and pull on her hardened nipples. The excitement built in her slowly until she heard the sounds of approaching laughter. She stopped her indulgences and climbed from the tub. Pulling her nightgown over her head, she rushed back to the main house. Her nightgown clung to her wet body as she ran.

The thoughts and feeling that she had been exploring in the bathhouse stayed with her as she returned to her room. She lay down in the bed and slid her hand below her gown. Her mind returned to the stories that her roommates Cossette and Jacqueline had told her as they talked in the darkness of the night. A smile crossed her face as the idea entered her thoughts. She climbed off the bed, and reached for the candlestick on the nightstand before entering her mistress’ bedroom.

She let her eyes and her mind explored the room as never before. She imagined herself as the Countess. She thought about what it would be like to be the mistress of the house. What would it be like to have been born into the world deserving the luxuries that surrounded her on a daily bases?

She knew that it was wrong to open her mistress’ armoire, but in that moment she was the countess and it was all hers. She ran her fingers over the silk of the dresses and thrilled in the bright and beautiful colors of the dresses. Her fingers passed from the soft and supple fabrics to the hardness of a corset. The fabric was soft but it was the hardness of the whale bone sewn between the layers that sent a shiver through her. It was black with pick lace trim. The fabrics felt so fine, so soft, and the contrast of the pink against the black was stunning. She could feel her nipples getting hard. She looked over her shoulder at the empty room, hesitating for only a moment before she quickly began to undress. She carefully removed the corset from the armoire and stepped into it for the first time. She lifted into place around her frame and cinched it as tight as she could. The feel of the fabrics and the restraint of the whale bone began to stir her arousal even more and the heat in her sex began to build. It was so firm, so tight around her body. She could feel it forcing her to stand straighter. It make her already ample breasts seem even larger as she looked at herself in the large mirror in the corner of the room. She searched for the silk stocking that she had often pickup up from the floor and from the backs of the chairs. She carefully stretched them up her legs and clipped them to the corset. They felt exquisite against her skin.

       Her sensitive nipples began to ache as the moisture built inside her again. The hunger had been building in her since her bath. Alone and free to be what ever she wanted to be, she choose to be the countess and she wouldn’t be denied. She stretched out on the bed, and began touching herself again trying to fulfill the desires coursing through her. She caressed her breasts and began to pull on her hardened nipples stretching them, and pinching them before starting the cycle again. She could smell her arousal filling the room, as she imagined that the touch was that of one of the countess’ many lovers. Her words like her desires escaped her, “Ooooo....... oh .. yes.. mmmmm” She was lost in her own passions. The words and her moans freely escaped her lips as one hand continued to assault her breasts and nipples and the other slid over the silk outer fabric of the corset and massaged her sex.

That was how the count’s governor found her. He had been passing the room when he her heard moans coming from the room. He walked the entire mansion nightly before retiring for the evening. He looked to review the work of the servants and planned the next day’s activities. This particular night was different in two ways. The travels of the Count and Countess had made it possible for him to reward some of his staff. It was also different in that he had been working with the stablemen in the later part of the evening and so had changed the path of his nightly inspections.

He followed the sounds of her lust and watched her as she ministered to her own desires. She was as beautiful as he had imagined it.

He knew that she should have left her to the purity and innocence of her own youthful pleasures. The time wasn’t right. He started to step away and continue his nightly inspection but a part of him could not walk away. The countess would not forgive him and he was unwilling to live with the deception it would demand.

Even as a child, Madeline had her eyes, and even her demeanor. Now she was a woman. Every curve and movement of her body now reminded him of her. It was as if God had brought her back to him.

He knew in his mind that she was Madeline a purchased slave, but his heart still wished that Plato could be right and that it was her re-incarnated.

It was a decision made in weakness and in the fullness of his humanity. A part of him knew that the deception would have been the honorable course of action.

He silently entered the countess’s room. She had made it too easy for him. His dark dreams now ready to be unleashed. He towered over her. He was tall by any standard and muscular from years of hard physical labor. Even his years as the governor of the La Fontaine estate had not diminished his strength. If anything, it had given a sense of power to his presence.

“What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?” His voice was like thunder coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. Tinged with implied indignation it was clam, powerful and demanding.

Her eyes flew open but her fingers refused to stop their relentless attack on her sex. She saw him towering over her. Looking almost god like as he stood with only the light of the candle casting his face in flickering shadows. Just as in nature lightning follows thunder, and she felt a surge of passion hit her driving her to the edge of an abyss that desperately wanted.

“Ohhhh.. gooooooooddddd,” Her voice a desperate scream. Her legs began to tremble as her body drove itself into her thrusting fingers.

He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up off the bed. He spun her around and threw her down again before pulling her wrist behind her back and driving her body in to the plush fabrics of her mistress’ bed.

“You filthy little whore!” She heard his voice deep lustful and filled with anger.

“I could not help myself... pleeeeeeaaaaasssee..

She screamed out of fear and frustration as he pulled her up from the bed. One hand grasped her wrist and the other her hair as he forced her out of the room. Her body denied the bliss that she had been so close to obtaining.

“Oh.. Please.. I'm... sorry.. I couldn't help it....”

       “Shut up you little whore!” He growled and pushed her down the hallway and through the great hall. Clarisse watched as Maggie passed exposed like a street whore.

He released his grasp on her hair and fumbled with something unseen on the wall. A side door clicked open and he pushed in wide before pushed her through it. He pushed her against the wall face first and told her to stay still as he lit a torch and He grabbed a torch from the wall. She didn't notice and latter wouldn’t remember it happening. She was lost in the combination of fear and passion that surging through her with a force that she was had sent her mind and body spiraling out of control. She would only remember feeling the strength of his hands. Their strength bound her by her wrist and her hair. She would remember the feeling of her hair pulling against her flesh, the muskiness of his smell, and his towering over her with every step.

“Please.. Sir.. I .. I’m ... sorry.. please.” Maggie heard the words but it was as if someone else spoke them, her mind was still fighting the flood of sensations filling her body. She didn’t want mercy. She didn’t want forgiveness. She wanted to be taken. The person hidden inside her was in awe of the strength that had captured her, and lusted for more.

She didn't even think to resist as the juices from her pussy dripped down her thighs. She simply moved where he guided her. Her body wanted to follow his lead. He took her down the winding stairwell to the dungeon as the smell of sulfur from the torch filled her nose.

She fought to maintain her balance as he forced her down into the darkness. Unable to use her free hand to touch herself though she desperately wanted to.

When they reached the bottom of the stairway, he pushed her through a heavy unlocked door and threw her forward onto the floor. The silk stockings tore at the knees. He grabbed her by the hair again and pushed her back against the stone wall with a force that nearly drove the air from her lungs. She stood there dazed and unmoving as he put a manacle on each wrist, and then one on each ankle leaving her exposed and helpless against the wall.

He stepped away and soaked in the picture of her lust driven self. He had been rougher than he had intended. His passions and memories had thrown him onto a path that he had fought against until now. He stepped forward his hand snapping forward to grab hold of her pussy. His fingers parted her swollen lubricated lips and drove into her. He lifted her body from the floor impaling her on his hand and the fingers inside her.

“Hmmmm... please Sir.. oooo.. please...” The orgasm hit her like a lightning bolt. Her body convulsing against the roughness of his hand and the shackled that bound her as wave after wave of pleasure wash over her. He lowered her back to her feet and pulled his fingers from her sex. She slumped against her bonds her eye lids fluttering as she tried to regain control of her body. He slapped her across the face with one hand and forced his cum soaked fingers into her mouth.

“Clean them whore.” She began to suck on his fingers as tears started rolling down her cheeks. Her eyes still glazed over knowing that the passion that had driven her here was already returning. He smiled at her and without saying another word he turned and left. He disappeared followed by his silhouette against the flicker of the fading torch light.

Her response to his harshness had been more than he had hoped. Whether from her training as a slave and servant or from a naturally submissive nature, he didn’t know. He only knew that it had fueled his hunger for her. A hunger he had thought long past.

Slowly her breathing returned to normal and she started to focus on the present. She could hear the steady drip of water as it fell from a stone in the wall to a bucket on the floor. There were no windows and no light of any kind. The room was cold and the darkness was complete. She could have screamed, or died and no one would have known. She screamed anyway. The sound of hear shrill desperate voice echoed off the stone walls and faded until all was silent once more.

Hopeless, she did what she could do. She waited for his return. She tried to tell herself that she could hope for someone’s return, someone who would rescue her from her imprisonment. It was a fleeting thought. Other thoughts quickly challenged and shouted down the hope that it had offered. She was already a slave. She would only leave this prison to return to another that looked better to others but was still cruelty to her. She wanted his return. Right and wrong could be damned and forgotten. She wanted the man who had become her vision of power and lust. She hated herself for it but she wanted his return.

Time meant nothing to her in this new world were there was no sunlight, or warmth and the only things left to her were the cold of the stone, the weight of the chains and the bite of the manacles. She spent the time racing from thoughts of what awaits her, to questions of her own sanity, and to the burning desires that were keeping her nipples hard and her pussy moist.

The foot steps started softly, slowing drawing closer. The smell of the torch returned and the light forced her eyes to blink as they tried to adjust to having light once more. She had no way to know that only minutes had past or that he had gone only to make sure that his long time slave and lover Clarisse knew his expected silence in the matter and to have her begin preparing for the next phase in his newly formed plan to make Maggie his own.

He walked towards Maggie with purpose, even as he forced himself to slow his pace lest he betray is own lustful need. He stopping in front of her and calmly asked,” What do have to say for your self?”

       Her mind was reeling from the passions her captivity had stirred, and the speed at which her life had changed. She didn't know what to say and started mumbling that she was sorry and begged for forgiveness and mercy. Even as she heard the words her body silently begged for more, begged for the harshness that had brought her more pleasure then she had ever imagined possible.

       A smirk crossed his face as he stepped away and began to walk around the room lighting the previously unseen torches that line the room. Each new torch revealed more of the prison that held her. Her eyes fixed on a table standing in the middle of the room with shackles at the feet, and another set of shackles at the head of the table attached to chains. She broke her stare to look at a huge “x” made of wooden beams leaning against the opposite stone wall. The torch light flickered off a metal cage suspended just above the floor by a huge iron chain. Everywhere she looked she saw furniture and tools that filled her with fear. Her heart raced at the vision of things before her. The light revealed implements of torture that she had never imagined and in that moment didn’t want to. The wall also held wooden boards with pegs that where draped with whips of various lengths, and handles with multiple strands of leather hanging as if waiting for a victim. He returned to her and smiled again. It was a devious self-indulgent smile.

“Your mistress is in need of a maidservant not a whore. I’m going to teach you the difference and your place in my Lord’s house.” He possessed her completely, they both knew it and wanted it as his hands began to grope her breast pulling away only to grasp her nipples and pinch them between in his thumb and fore fingers. The passion returned with the sweet taste of fear. Yes, it was sweet it was moving her again. It stirred her passions and again turned the pain in her arms and wrists into pleasure. He pulled her body forward by the nipples forcing them to stretch against her bounds.

He released her aching nipples and again reached down to feel the heat in her pussy. His fingers covered by the wetness of her hunger. He began to play with her clit. He rubbed it in ever hardening circles. His eyes filling with lust as her body betrayed her again and begged for more. She tried to drive herself into his touch. Her eyes rolled back and all of her being was on that delicious circle passing over her clit.

So close..

Soooooo close..

Closer..

“Oh God yes.. Please..”

“What are you?”

“Mmmmmmmm… Please.. harder..”

He pulled away and with amazing speed slapped her across her breast.

“Ahhh......” she screamed. The blow set her skin on fire.

“I asked you a question. What are you?” His hand made an arc and struck her other breast.

“I do not understand?” She said as tears began streaming down her cheeks. She lied. She knew. She knew what she was, what her body was telling her she was. It told her what she wanted to be. He slapped her again this time across the cheek. Spots of light filled her eyes.

“Do not lie to me! Tell me what you are!” His voice shook her with it’s strength and ferocity. She tried to form the words as the blows started again.

“I’m a whore, sir.” The blows were raining down on her breasts and sides. One hand became two and her entire body was turned into an encompassing sensation of flames as she continued to scream out,” I’m a whore.. I’m a whore, please stop.. oh God. I’m a whore, sir.. please..”

The words were like a sweet wine and he was drunk on them.

The blows stopped as suddenly as they started. Her body was cover with sweat and her chest was heaving as she fought for air.

He bent down and released her ankles. He then stood up and released her wrists. Her skin remembered every blow and her juices freely flowed down her thighs. She knew that even one more blow and the pleasure that she had found before would have been hers again. She didn’t understand it, but she knew. He grabs hold of both of her nipples and pulls her down onto her knees.

He pushed down his breaches, to reveal his hard cock. He didn't speak. He just grabbed hold of her hair and pulled her to his manhood. She opened her mouth silently and without protest as he pushed his cock into its eager depths.

It was different then the stories that her roommates had told. It was scary. The taste was strong. The smell was stronger. Her mouth tried to adjust to the size and taste of the intruder as it moved in and out. Suddenly it drove forward until her nose pressed against the hair at its base. Her nostrils filled with the musky sent of his body. His cock was as thick as her wrist and stretched her mouth as he drove it inside her. She started to gag as it drove into her throat and tried to catch her breath as he pulls it back only to have him drive it forward again and again.

For the first time, she tried to resist and tried to push her body away and free herself of his manhood but his strength was driven by his lust and it would not be denied. He pulled her forward by the hair as the speed and force of his thrusts increased. He pulled her forward and held her tight leaving her unable to breathe before his own ecstasy over took him. He felt his cum spurting into her throat and mouth.

He released her hair as she pushed herself free of its still throbbing length. His cum still flowing from his cock as it popped free dripping from her mouth over her chin onto her sweat-covered breasts.

Time stops while he regained his composure. His orgasm was complete and all encompassing. Everything else disappeared as his mind floated in the ecstasy of the moment. His body shuttered in aftershocks. Regaining control of himself he pulled his breaches back over his saliva soaked cock. Maggie stayed on her knees at his feet unmoving except to wipe away the cum from her mouth with the back of her arm. She didn’t think the taste. It was neither good nor bad. It was just what it was and part of a force that demanded her submission.

That wasn’t entirely true she thought. She cursed that the thought. She tried to make it go away, but it wouldn’t. She wanted it. She wanted to taste it, feel it, submit to it. Her body felt as like lightning had struck the ground close by. Every sensation in her body was amplified and overwhelming. Each stroke of his cock in her mouth had filled a part of her with a hunger, a desire to feel it in other places. Her thoughts waged a war inside her as she starred at his saliva soaked still pulsing manhood.

The reprieve was brief as he once again grabbed hold of her hair and pulled her to her feet. He pulled her behind him until she was standing in front of the table that she had seen earlier. He bent her forward over the table and kicked her legs apart.

“Keep still.” He demanded as he kneeled down.

He secured her ankles to the legs of the table before moving forward and pulling her wrists as far as they would go before securing them to the other side of the table.

She was lost, lost in her wanting. She felt so open and exposed yet all she wanted was more.

His hunger satisfied for the moment, he stopped to admire her body once more. He could smell her need, and feel the heat of her body in the air. He should have left her to her indulgences. His owns lusts now satisfied he found himself angry with her. He was angry with her for having so much power over him. He knew it was his choose to walk into the room and that his anger was with his on weakness. Still, the wheels of fate had been set in motion and he needed to know her body would respond to the pain that he had found such pleasure in inflicting. Using his anger only made it easier.

He walked to the wall and lifted a couple of straps from the pegs and a handle from its pegs. The heavy leather strands swayed below the handle with each step as he moved towards her again. He moved next to her and tied a wide leather strap over her eyes, and another that he pulled between her lips before tying them behind her head. Denied the light again she tried to hear her captor to find him in the darkness. Instead, she heard the ominous swish of the leather strands as they cut through the air. At first that was all that she heard the swish, swish, swish as they moved through the cold air of the dungeon. Then she felt it, the bite of the leather against her still burning skin.

The strands struck without mercy moving up and down her legs, ass and back. The blows moved from one side of her body to the other in a dance of pain. The fire in her skin fueled a need that had remained unquenched in her loins. The dance drove her closer in a relentless race that her body demanded it win.

Her legs trembled as her body desperately tried to find some way to drive itself deeper into the blows that were raining down it. She screamed a desperate scream as blinding white warmth washed over her in wave after relentless wave. Her world, her everything disappeared and all that she was became one with the pleasure that had replaced the pain.

Her mind slowly returned to the present to find that her capture has once again disappeared. She was bent and tied and knowing that the hunger in her needed to be fed again. The heat of the torches faded while the darkness grew stronger and remained to trap her in her hunger for more.