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Chapter 2: The surprise
Without adding a word, the blond woman exits the room, leaving me alone with the little maid. With her boss now gone, she gets up and starts, with great dexterity, to remove my bonds. She has accurately identified my distress and tries to reassure me by talking to me softly, in a language amazingly common as opposed to the one she used in front of her mistress.
“Don’t worry, Madame is a genius of a woman. In a few days, you will beg her to stay with her.”
“You’re crazy! How could you…”
“Hush! Watch it! The place is full of mikes and cameras. She knows everything that goes on in here. Shut up and obey me without fail, otherwise I’ll have to punish you. Above all, speak only when I ask you to and don’t make me repeat.”
Lisette has left one of my wrists tied to the table. It is with relief that I move from this uncomfortable position. Sitting at the edge of the table, I gaze at the leather straps that held my limbs in place. Each one has a ring firmly attached to it, the inside of which is lined with fur to preserve my skin. This token of protection reassures me.
“Here, have a drink.”
She hands me a tall glass of water.
While I quench my thirst, she keeps busy in the closets and comes back towards me pushing a small cart covered with tools of all kind. With movements that betray a vast experience, she coats the red welts from the riding crop that cover my body with a cool balm that tickles me for a moment before giving me an amazingly beneficial sensation.
“It will do you good. In two days, maybe three, it won’t show anymore.”
She massages my stomach at length using a very sensual circular motion, spelling out her instructions with a sure voice:
“Bend backwards… Turn around… Move up…”
Then she kneels between my legs and does the same thing with my thighs. The smell of my panties soaked with urine puts me to shame but her nose, so close to my crotch, gives me a strange sensation. It does not seem to bother her and I finally abandon myself to her good care.
“Mmmmm!!! You smell of piss,” she whispers. “I love it.” Continuing passionately with her massage, she moves her head forward and takes a long sniff from my panties. My God, what a weird feeling. The tips of my breasts are harder than ever.
“Open your legs and make sure you don’t move,” she adds, her voice almost too soft for me to hear. She delicately puts her tongue on the bottom part of my panties and brings it up, very slowly, hugging the shape of my sex. It startles me and it’s with great difficulty that I manage to stay still. It feels like a bolt of electric current going through my stomach.
“That too, you’ll get used to it…” she says enigmatically, standing up and looking at me with her adorable and small green eyes framed by freckles. She is really beautiful. Her lips part slightly and, with a small chuckle of pleasure, she hits my nose lightly with her tongue.
“You smell it?”
Stunned, I don’t know what to say. She walks around the table.
“Lie down on your back.”
She drops a small knob of balm on each of my nipples and on my belly button. The coolness of the product makes me shiver. The caresses from her hands are delicious. The product spreads out easily and her fingers slide on my breasts, stretch my nipples and move over my belly in an exquisite caress.
Little by little, my pleasure starts to rise again when she abruptly stops to go wash her hands.
“Now, you have to go take a shower.”
She hands me a collar made of leather with several rings on it and orders me to fasten it around my neck.
This is too much and I get offended: “But this is a dog collar!!!”
Her worried look makes me realize that I just did something stupid. She looks at one corner of the ceiling with apprehension. I catch a glimpse of a small camera.
“Shut up, you idiot, you want her to spank us both?” Her face shows real anxiety. “I told you to speak only when I ask you to…” Swiftly, she grabs a chain well over a meter long and fastens it to the collar which she then puts, with authority, around my neck. Then she holds my wrists together behind my back and locks them in place using the rings on them.
“Follow me,” she tells me in a tone that does not allow for contradiction of any kind.
She grabs the leash and drags me by the neck behind her. The infirmary borders a long corridor which we follow for a long while. This girl is really a “reduced model”. I am not that tall but even with her high-heel shoes on, she is still shorter than me.
Walking confidently, she leads me into a room resembling a common shower room like the one I remember from my high school. It is entirely covered by the same white tiling as the “infirmary”. Three shower heads hang from the wall and the ground, gently slopping, has several drains. In a corner, a toilet bowl sits unceremoniously. With one rapid move, she unties me.
“Ok, get undressed, hand me your panties and make it snappy.”
She raises her hand and points a finger towards a corner of the ceiling where I can spot another camera. Sacred at the thought of making another blunder, I obey.
She points to a shower head. “Go stand there” she says putting her hand out to take my panties and slip them in her apron. Then she hangs my wrists to a hook located above the shower head.
The water has a wonderful effect on my skin. It is deliciously hot and I relax to enjoy the moment to the fullest.
“About the collar, if madame ever heard you, she will give us hell. Look!”
She undoes the hooks on her corsage and lowers it from her shoulders, revealing a flat belly and smallish breasts stripped with purple marks, some of which are still swollen.
“Two days ago she chastised me.” She turns around and shows me her back, which is in an even sorriest state. “And I won’t show you the rest… If she ever beats me up again like that, I’ll have to stay in bed for at least a week. Get it?”
Jaws agape, I fall back into the nightmare. Such cruelty… I can almost feel her burns. My stomach turns. I am on the verge of throwing up.
“Turn around so that I can lather you up with soap,” she orders me as she readjusts herself.
Little by little, the contact from her hands revives my excitement. “The front now.” She lathers me up head to toe. Thank God her hands are soft. “Spread your legs.” All modesty now gone, I let her work on my private body parts. God does it feel good. The soap makes the contact from her fingers very pleasant.
“Aren’t you a hairy one. We’ll have to shave all that off.” She examines me, handles me as if I was a mere object of pleasure. This troubling sensation sharpens my pleasure. She toys a moment with my nipples. She stretches them between her thumb and forefinger, twisting them delicately before suddenly letting them go to untie me.
“Ok, now the enema… Watch out, it’s in your best interest to just let me do it. If we take too long…” The rest of the threat remains unsaid.
An enema? I thought they had relegated this barbaric procedure to the lower levels of obscurantism over a century ago.
“Do you want to go to the bathroom first?” she asks me as she locks my wrists behind by back again.
It has been I don’t know how many hours since I could relief myself. To add to this humiliation, still naked, I must now sit on a toilet, hands tied behind my back, before this girl, without any walls to preserve my modesty. These events, each one crazier than the next, took place with so much speed that this demeaning position doesn’t shock me as much as I would have guessed. The idea of an enema worries me. A lot of questions burn my mind but out of fear of sanctions, I dare not ask them.
This degrading posture makes me tighten up and I have a tough time letting go. After what feels like an eternity, a burning sensation fills my cheeks as my bowels loudly produce the shameful sound they make when they free themselves of their load. With thighs fully pumped up, sick with shame, I empty myself, my eyes solely focused on the ground before me. Finally relieved, I dare not getting up, stupidly waiting while sitting on the bowl.
In the meantime, she prepares her instruments.
“You done?”
Red as a pepper, I shake my head yes. She motions me to get up. I do so, quickly flushing the toilet at the same time.
“On your knees,” she orders me. “Lean forward and spread your legs as far apart as you can.”
Mortified, I obey, having a really hard time doing it.
“Put your shoulders on the ground.”
I bow low, facing the toilet bowl. The contact with the cold and humid tile floor cools me down a little.
She moves behind me. Her finger slides along the most intimate part of me to part the flesh. “Spread your cheeks with your hands.” It feels like I’m dreaming awake. The uncomfortable position has made my nipples touch the ground. I feel them rubbing against the floor while she cleans me meticulously with a damp cloth. Suddenly her finger presses against the middle of my anus. “Relax and spread them out more.” The intruder tickles my little flower for a long time. “Me, I love it when someone does it to me.” She toys around for a few moments with the tip of her nail before penetrating me slowly. Involuntarily, my intimate muscles tense up. “Didn’t you hear me? You have to relax if you don’t want me to hurt you.” Surprisingly, the dreaded pain expected does not materialize. I do my best to make her job easier. After a few times around, her whole finger finally penetrates me. She does a few in-and-outs before pulling out, creating a sense of emptiness that frustrates me. Once again, my body betrays me. It leads me to believe that in the end, all these humiliations contribute to my pleasure.
“Now, the tube. Don’t worry, it’s a small one. Stay calm.”
At the same time, the thing penetrates my anus. She must have lubricated me because I do not feel any resistance. Just an impression I need to empty myself out again… Then the liquid invades me… I tense up. The lack of difference in temperature with my body makes the procedure only less sensitive. Only a bizarre sensation in my stomach, the feeling that I ate too large a meal. I can feel the skin of my belly stretch out. For an eternity, the ordeal goes on.
“There, it’s done,” she says pulling out the tube. “Go quickly to the toilet and push to get everything out. Don’t hold back, otherwise you will have cramps.” She helps me get up and guides me to the bowl.
Obviously, she knows what she is talking about. I barely have time to sit on the seat, the urge to flush out the liquid is so pressing. I shamefully let go, much to my relief. The horribly obscene noise makes me turn red in the face again.
She repeats the procedure twice before cleaning me up for good.
“There, you’re as clean as a ‘shiny new penny’” she tells me laughing while she puts away her equipment. “I just have to make you look pretty and we can go join Madame.” Happy to have survived the challenge, I obediently follow her to the infirmary.
*****
At no time did the memories from my “past life” come to haunt me. A side of my personality that I did not know existed before has just been revealed to me.
She makes me wait and takes out a gynecologist chair and a small stool set on wheels from a large closet. I settle in the gynecologist chair with some apprehension while she prepares her equipment. This time, the small cart holds things that would make any beauty salon proud: Makeup, hair and manicure products, a bowl filled with shaving mousse and an old-fashion razor, the kind with a long blade and handle with a bend in the middle to fold it after use. Clothes and shoes are carefully folded and lined up on a shelf on the lower part of the cart.
Absent-mindedly, I put up my feet in the stirrups. She places the small cushioned stool between my legs and sits down, her face flush with my sex.
“For starters, let’s shave all those pubes. If Madame finds even one, I’ll pay for it…” With the help of scissors, she clears out most of my bush, leaving only a mesh of short pubic hair. Then she moistens my pubic area and covers it with the shaving mousse. In answer to my worried look, she replies: “Oh I’m used to it, you know. I’m the one who takes care of Madame’s body.” Her eyes shine with a strange sparkle that betrays more than just pride. Visibly, this lewd little maid is madly in love with her mistress. Reluctantly, I must admit that I also find that severe woman very attractive. She displays a charm and charisma almost addictive.
Lisette knows what to do. With a fluid motion, she spreads out the mousse with precision, lightly brushing my pubic area. Small and delectable shivers run through my lower abdomen.
“You’ll see, it’s a totally cool feeling. At first, it tickles a little but we get used to it very quickly.” Her movements remind me of the ones from the esthetician my mother took me to see last year to have my armpits and my bikini line waxed before going on vacation. Except that it is not wax she is using.
The razor stings a little when it gets caught in rougher patches of hair before slicing them away. I cannot help but start.
“Make sure you don’t move, you’ll risk getting cut from me.”
The idea of being maimed there paralyzes me. I have no problem staying still like a statue, giving her ample opportunity to finish her job well. Next, she makes me move my pelvis forward and spread my ass cheeks by bringing my knees up to my chest. The indecency of this position gives me the impression that the heat in this room just went up a notch. My cheeks burn my face and I keep my eyes stubbornly fixed on the ceiling. A few swings of the razor quickly take care of the few hairs I have around my anus. A small mischievous lap of the tongue on my ass cheeks completes the task.
“There, it’s done,” she says sliding a finger across my most intimate part. “Wow, how about that, you’re totally wet.” To add to the shame, she shakes her wet forefinger in front of my eyes. “It shows you like that, you little sex maniac,” she says, touching it several times with her thumb, making fun of the sticky lines stretching between her fingers.
I don’t know where to hide. This humiliating situation excites me. What decadence… With a little sly smile, she slides the finger between her lips and sucks on it at length, looking at me right in the eyes. The temperature becomes unbearable.
She rinses me off with a damp cloth then repeats the task with my armpits. Next, she covers me with a perfumed cream which she spreads softly over the newly bared part of my body. “You’re now as naked as the day you were born,” she says with that little smile I find so troubling. Her fingers work wonders between my legs to make the cream penetrate. Finally, she powders me with talc. “It will reduce the burning sensation from the razor. You’ll always have to be bare as far as that’s concerned. After I met Madame, I had the misfortune of forgetting a few hairs once. She tied me to that chair and plucked them out one by one with tweezers. I swear to you I paid for it. After that, I never wanted to go through this again,” she says, her eyes unfocused, as if that memory had made her nostalgic.
A small irritation burns my crotch, bringing an itching sensation rather pleasant that takes my excitement to a new level. Decidedly, this little maid makes me go from one surprise to the next. It is in a relaxed and confident state that I abandon myself to her care. She combs my hair, manicures my feet and my hands before meticulously applying makeup on me.
“That’s it,” she tells me putting the last touch of blush on my cheeks. “Wait till you see yourself in the mirror. You can tell me what you think.” Her radiant smile enhances the enchanting freckles that frame her fresh young face. She puts my hair in two very tight braids that pull a little on my scalp. My lips and my nipples are tinted with a very clear red lipstick. “You look delicious. Madame will be happy,” she says, walking towards a sink to wash her hands.
God this girl is pretty. Her short black skirt, covered by her small white apron, prominently displays her legs sheathed in black silk, admirably shaped and raised by black stilettos with spiked heels which slim down her silhouette. The white hat sitting on top of her head gives her a naughty look that makes her even more beautiful.
“Ok, now let’s dress you,” she says looking at her watch with a worried look. “We have to hurry, we have only a few minutes left.”
Her comment brings me back to earth. “What time is it? And what day is it?”
“Hush, Sandrine. Watch it. You must only talk when you’re asked.” Then, leaning in my ear, she adds whispering “It will be noon soon, Madame wants us there at half past. Let’s hurry.”
My brain does the math. Noon… It has therefore been almost 24 hours since I have been held captive here. I now acknowledge the hunger that torments me. As discreetly as possible, I whisper “may I have a glass of water please?”
Without answering, she unties my wrists, grabs from the fridge a bottle with no label and pours me a tall glass. “Drink, it will do you good.” I am thirsty, my throat is dry. I quench my thirst with great delight.
“Ok, the clothes now. Pull your right leg straight.” She has picked up a pair of black stockings and begins putting them on me. The soft contact of the fabric makes me shiver as it slides on my skin. She proceeds meticulously and makes the nylon smooth with her hands to position it. “The stitch must be right down the middle and very straight,” she says, handing me the second stocking.
The stilettos are the same as hers, although the heels are not as high. They are brand new and the smell of patent-leather that comes from them is rather enjoyable. I notice in amazement that they fit me perfectly.
“We have the same size,” the little maid tells me. “Madame thinks that my feet are great. I bet she’ll love yours.
She ties a garter belt around my waist and makes me stand to stretch everything out. “Make sure there are no dents, there’s nothing uglier.”
It is the first time that I wear this type of undergarment. A very powerful sensation of femininity overtakes me. It is as if these clothes framed my bare sex to better put the emphasis on it. I feel beautiful and desirable. Secretly, the hope to please Lisette’s boss crosses my mind.
She makes me put on a white bodice identical to the one she has on and, much to my surprise, ties up the laces behind my back with the help of a rubber band of the same color as my lipstick. No button is buttoned up and my small bare chest seems to pop out from the piece of clothing, freely offered.
“Perfect! You’re perfect!” She says taking a step back to admire me. “Will you be able to walk without falling flat on your face?” She asks, suddenly worried.
The compliment goes straight to my heart. I feel beautiful… Desirable. I proudly tell her “I think it will be alright.” I have been to clubs with heels like that and I do not doubt my ability to move about dressed like this. Curiously, the indecency of my attire does not shock me.
She crouches at my feet and ties a small chain of about 30 centimeters at the most to my ankle bracelets. “You’ll have to take small steps if you don’t want to fall.”
Then picking up the handle of the leash, she asks me to open my mouth wide and takes out my soiled panties from the small pocket of her apron. “I can imagine you won’t like this but…” She shoves them between my lips with authority. The revulsion is more than I can bear; I take a sudden step back, almost falling when the chain holding my ankles gets taut.
She pulls sharply on the leash to bring me back closer to her. “Watch it, don’t force me to punish you,” she says, placing the underwear in front of my mouth again.
At the edge of disgust, I comply. My submission scares me. “It’s good Sandrine, Madame will be happy. Make sure that not matter what happens, you keep it in your mouth until she allows you to take it out.” This time, I must endure not only the smell but also the salty and bitter taste of my urine.
She spends a few moment putting my panties in place, making sure that the tiniest part of them can be seen escaping my lips. The humiliation makes the contradictory sentiments I feel in the deepest recess of my being worse. “The touchy part will be to not stain them with your lipstick.” The touchy part, that’s easy for her to say… It is clear she is not the one who has to submit to this humiliation… Although… She would probably love it.
The memory of the scars on her body makes me shiver. She locks my wrists behind my back and, without letting go of the leash, takes a few steps back to stare at me. Her eyes look up and down at me from head to toe as she admires her work with delight.
“I envy you,” she tells me. “You have a splendid body.” A tiny flame of jealousy shows up in her eyes as she looks at me. “Madame will adore you,” she adds with a hint of regret in her voice.
“Let’s go.” She turns on her heels and pulls me down the corridor. My walk is tenuous. I have to make sure I take very small steps, or else the small chain at my feet will make me lose my balance. The sound of our heels accompanied by the clicking of metal ring out in my ears.
Soon we pass by the shower room and slowly continue our progress along the endless corridor. A series of closed doors on either side of it makes me think of a hotel. When finally we reach the end, the difference in temperature gives me goose bumps. A glass double door that seems to act as an airlock opens automatically as we go on our way.
We are in an octagonal hall, roughly six meter wide with an impressively high ceiling. The walls entirely covered with mirrors give the room a remarkable illusion of vastness.
Lisette stops and looks at me through a mirror. “So what do you think of my work?” Looking dazed, I gaze at my reflection in the mirror. I already know to what degree the heels slim down my figure but it’s mostly my face that stunts me. This girl has talents that would make the best estheticians proud. Speechless, I move up to admire her work of art.
The pony tails make me look a few years younger and my hairless pubic area reminds me of my early teenage years. I look like a little girl that grew too quickly into adolescence. The discreet makeup enhances the blue of my eyes which contrast like never before with my jet black hair. Never have I found myself so desirable.
For an instant, I think about this television show that I watch from time to time and in which people get a “makeover”. The effect is striking. I understand better now the surprise they can feel when they see their new appearance. My pony tails remind me of the heroine of a television series of which I forget the name.
The coolness of the room make my nipples hurt, they are so stretched out. Or is it some excitement because, at the same time, a sneaky warmth grows between my legs.
With the help of all the mirrors, I can survey my small and round buttocks, enhanced by the black stockings. The leather collar around my neck, my small breasts with the nipples pointing up, the bounds that hold my ankles and my arms tied behind my back all give me a very perverse look.
For a moment, my eyes catch those of the little maid who looks at me with lust in her eyes. Only one thing wrong with this picture, my mouth is slightly misshapen by the panties sticking out a little between my lips without affecting my beauty whatsoever.
“Ok, that’s all nice and well…” With a slap on my butt, she puts an end to my daydreaming. “We can’t make Madame wait.”
And we resume our walk ahead and go through another glass door, located across the previous one, also automatically operated. A new corridor entirely covered with wall-to-wall carpet opens before us.
The residence is really huge. Expensive paintings all showing women in the nude, created by some of the greatest painters, decorate the walls, also richly covered with carpeting. Little by little, I get used to the new temperature. On the right, a brightness, almost blinding, illuminates the corridor. It is a vast reception hall dozens of square meters big, completely bordered by large bay windows overlooking a landscaped park. In the middle of the room, I catch sight of a gigantic table, long enough to welcome dozens of guests. Lisette’s boss must be a billionaire.
Little by little, I get used to my bounds, my walk has become more assured and I no longer fear falling down. Patiently, Lisette helps me forward until we reach the end of the T-shaped corridor. We turn right.
“Remember, only speak when questioned,” Lisette tells me. “When we are in front of her, wait on your knees, eyes to the ground. Watch out you don’t do anything to upset her.”
A few meters further, she quietly opens a door to the left and helps me enter in a new room nearly as vast as the previous one. It looks like a salon or a big office. It is furnished with great taste. To our right, four leather sofas at an angle make up a corner in the middle of which a pole goes up all the way to the ceiling. A pair of leather cuffs hangs from it, held by chains secured higher up. While on the left, a desk equipped with several computer screens regally sits. In front of the desk, several armchairs are spread out, as if they are expecting to receive clients.
“Here you are at last!” I jump. “We almost had to wait for you.” A red haired lady, with very short hair, gets up while calling out to us. Her attire, of the same leather as the sofa, prevented me from noticing her when I got here. “Madame is waiting for you by the pool, hurry up a little, you slow pokes.”
Confused by this welcome, I look at Lisette for guidance. She has lowered her eyes and has stiffened at the verbal assault. The bay windows are wide open and a light draft gives me goose bumps in spite of the summer temperature.
Lisette pulls harshly on my leash and draws me outside. Surprised by her gesture, I trip before regaining my balance with great difficulty.
“Lisette!” We both stop moving. “Nice work.”
“Thank you Christelle. I am happy it pleases you.” Without waiting for a reply, she pulls on my leash again and goes out on the terrace. After leading me a little further to the right, out of sight of this woman, she whispers in my ear: “That’s Christelle. That’s Madame’s driver and sometimes…” Her voice is so low that I have to lean forward to understand what she is saying. “Sometimes, she’s the one handing out the punishment… Beware of her, she can be a real bitch. She’s completely nuts. Once, she tortured me with a lighter. It was horrible, I had blisters for days. You’ll have to show her respect. Call her by her first name and never look at her in the eye…” The warning makes me shiver. We resume our walk.
The terrace leads to a grassy yard, perfectly mowed and entirely bordered by tall trees, hiding it from prying eyes. We walk along the house to take advantage of its shadow. The heat from the sun is torrid and Lisette has stepped up the pace a little. I struggle to keep up with her when we leave the solid surface of the terrace to cross the lawn and aim for a corner of the house.
****
Finally, we reach a new wing of the main structure, another shaded terrace overlooking a magnificent Olympic-size pool. I can make out three women lying down on the water’s edge. Madame is lying flat on her stomach, completely naked. Her body, astonishingly young with perfect curves, lies still, casually at the mercy of the caresses from the sun’s rays. Two young women, one brunette, the other blond, are kneeling at the foot of her long chair, also naked. Theirs eyes are blindfolded and each one is busy on one of her feet.
I do not understand right away what they are doing exactly but suddenly… My legs grow weak. For a moment, I have the feeling they’ll give out on me. The blood is draining from my face and I must do everything in my power not to collapse to the ground. These two young women are none other than my two friends: Syl and Ghis… They have their hands tied behind their backs and both are copiously, or I should say lovingly, licking the feet of Madame.
A small sound escapes from my mouth through the gag, quickly stifled by a harsh tug on my leash.
The little maid pulls the chain down towards the ground to remind me of my instructions. I kneel humbly while she lets go of me to get closer to her boss and whisper a few words in her ear.
The blonde lady does not even move. She seems to listen to the words of her servant without paying attention to them. Her report now completed, the aforementioned servant straightens up and moves to kneel on the other side of her Mistress, facing me. She has crossed her arms behind her back and looks down at the ground, a few centimeters in front of her knees. We wait for the good will of Madame in a religious silence interrupted by the chirping of the birds and the suction noises produced by my two buddies. This woman truly has a splendid body. Not an ounce of fat or trace of any loose skin can betray her age. Her muscular and round buttocks are fully and evenly tanned. She remains motionless, seemingly enjoying with delight the homage that Sylvie and Ghislaine pay to her feet so graciously offered.
We have to wait patiently this way for at least half an hour. The heat from the sun is difficult to bear. Beads of sweat trickle down my forehead and between my breasts and there is nothing I can do to stop it. My saliva, which a while back abundantly soaked my soiled panties, has now become a rare commodity in my mouth. A terrible thirst tortures me. After what seemed an eternity, Madame finally turns around, interrupting my two buddies. She looks at the time from a small alarm clock placed on the table beside her.
“It’s ok Lisette, you’re early. I hope you didn’t botch your task.” Her cold tone of voice implies a veiled threat. “Go fetch me refreshment please,” she says pointing to her empty glass.
“Very well Madame.”
“So what do we have here?”
I haven’t forgotten my instructions. I stare at the slabs of the terrace a few centimeters in front of me. That doesn’t prevent me from noticing the movements she makes to scrutinize me. “Keep going, girls, it was very pleasant.” I feel her eyes survey me from head to toe like a horse trader would with a new animal. My two buddies don’t have to be told a second time. They eagerly resume their humiliating task with unabated pleasure.
My mind is racing at full speed. How is it possible that the girls ended up in this situation? Are they here against their will? Are they partner in crime with this woman?
Next: The harem of Madame
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