Chapter 3 : The harem of Madame
“Come closer a little young girl… So that I can see what my new toy looks like.” Her icy and imperative tone leaves no room for contradiction. Moving a little brings me relief because this uncomfortable position was beginning to give my legs pins and needles. Confident in my new look, I move towards her, on my knees, carefully avoiding looking at her. The proximity of Sylvie and Ghislaine reassures me a little, even though their blindfolded eyes prevent them from knowing about my presence here. They do not seem to have been mistreated, far from it, considering the pleasure they take in degrading themselves this way.
“What do you have in your mouth my pretty one?” Here we go… I feel my cheeks turning red. She is sitting right in front of me. “Come closer, don’t be shy. Kneel between my legs.” As soon as I get within reach, she grabs the underwear and pulls it out of my mouth holding it contemptuously between her thumb and index finger. “It looks like a pair of panties.” The words ring in my ears. “What an odd smell.” She brings them up to her nose. “Yuk! They stink of urine.” Every remark feels like a slap in the face. I can see her disgusted pout. She carelessly forces them back between my lips after rubbing them on my nose.
Lisette returns. She is carrying a tray of refreshments from which comes the joyous clicking of ice cubes. I raise my eyes to her. Elegantly, she puts the tray down on the small table and pours a glass of soda to her boss. Then she goes back to kneel at the same spot as before. In spite of my completely parched throat, my mouth waters up with envy. I feel miserable, kneeling there, with those infamous panties in my mouth. I catch myself hoping for a little leniency from this woman so hateful and so fascinating at the same time.
My tormentor turns to me. I lower my eyes. “Look at me in the eyes, Sandrine.” I obey. She stares down at me with a hypnotic look I have a tough time resisting. “I see that you have learned your lesson well. It is worthy of a reward.” She focuses on me with a tiny smile of contentment. Her face finely chiseled, her perfect breasts, not too big, not too small, which stand proudly without sagging on her chest contrast with mine which I find so small. Her large blue eyes perfectly made up put me ill at ease. I look away to focus on the glass she holds in her hand.
“Lisette!”
“Yes Madame.”
“Pour a soda for our friend please.”
“Very well Madame.”
I cannot believe my ears. My thirst becomes even more pressing.
“Nice work girl, she is ravishing.”
“Thank you Madame.”
The blond woman gets up and walks around my nude form. “Truly ravishing. I could take a bite out of her. Stand up, Sandrine.” The same tone, imperative. Torn between the pleasure I get from her compliments and apprehension, I get up as best I can. Using a fingertip, she wipes a drop of sweat trickling along my neck. Distractively, she brushes against my chest going around me again. She strokes my ass cheeks. A clicking noise, some shaking on the shackles holding me and my hands are free. My spirits rise in a flash. “Hands behind your head, young girl.” Disappointed, I do as ordered. Another clicking sound and my hands are tied to my collar. Her breath tickles the back of my neck. She grabs my breasts and caresses them softly, lingering on my nipples, playfully pulling them and pinching them with her thumbs and forefingers. Stronger than pain, a wave of pleasure radiates from my chest down to my lower abdomen. She stands before me again and teases my nipples using the tips of her nails, looking at me right in the eye. I cannot sustain her stare. Barefooted, she stands a good five centimeters above me.
“Still waiting Lisette!” she says without looking away from me.
“There you go Madame,” answers the little maid, handing her a tall glass of soda filled with ice cubes.
Without a thank you, the blond picks up the glass and puts it under my nose. “This must taste better than you panties, don’t you think?” I nod in agreement, getting ready to spit out the piece of fabric but holding her finger up as if reading my thoughts, she stops me from doing so. “I will tell you when you can get rid of it.” And she pushes the underwear a little deeper in my mouth. Tormented, I watch her bring the glass close to my chest. A bit of condensation has formed on the edge of it and I flinch when the icy humidity makes contact with my nipples. It feels to me as if they have grown some more.
“Spread your legs.” I obey as best I can, dealing with the chain restraining my ankles. The glass slides along my stomach, ever lower. The sensation, unpleasant at first, refreshes me. Shiver after shiver run through my body from head to toe. Suddenly, a surge of heat fills my stomach. Her free hand has quickly moved past the glass and has sneaked between my legs. An inquisiting forefinger worms its way between the lips of my sex and has taken residence in the most intimate part of me. An electric pulse goes through my clitoris. She explores for a few moments the entrance of my vagina before moving up to my small organ now becoming hypersensitive. A new tremor paralyzes my muscles. “Lisette, untie her ankles and put a blindfold over her eyes.” The maid quickly gets busy. “Depraved little one,” she tells me studying her shiny fingers. “You’re gushing like a fountain.” Her mocking smile does nothing to temper my desire.
“Spread your legs better than that.”
The removal of her finger has created in me an immense feeling of frustration. My brain doesn’t belong to me anymore now that desire has tapped my loins. Eagerly, I spread my feet apart in order to give her the best possible access to my most intimate parts. “Lean your head backwards, you naughty little one.” Like a junkie, I offer myself totally, elbows pulled back as far as they can go, hips trusted forward, legs spread wide. A handkerchief appears almost magically in my line of sight and obstructs my view. Nothing matters anymore. Only a burning desire as hot as lava obsesses me.
A burning sensation on my lips makes me startle. I realize that she is using an ice cube to caress me. With a sharp move, she yanks out the panties from between my teeth and replaces them with the glass from which she pours the content very slowly in my mouth. I drink greedily till the last drop. The ice cube slides along my neck, reaches my chest where it settles, going from one nipple to the other. The initial burning sensation turns into a pleasure. The world around me ceases to exist. I only live now for this strange caress that puts me in this state. Every nerve in my body is on edge. Like a volcano about to erupt, a tremendous wave of pleasure grows from deep within me.
All of a sudden, a pair of hot lips lands on mine. Exquisite sensation. Shivers and surges of heat alternate at a hellish pace. At the same moment, the palm of her hand covers my pubic area, trapping the ice cube against my clitoris… It’s too much… My legs start to shake and my body gives out on me. I am submerged by the ravaging orgasm that bursts inside of me. Her tongue blends with mine, stifling the groans of pleasure that my throat cannot contain anymore. The notion of time disappears, replaced by an irresistible need to enjoy every fraction of a second. The ice cube penetrates the entrance of my vagina. A torrent heats the blood in my veins, apparently never ending. The bite of her nails on one of my nipples unleashes a new gust of pleasure that overtakes me.
I must have lost it there for a few moments because when I return to reality, I am lying down on Madame’s deckchair. Never before, during my long masturbations sessions alone, have I experienced an orgasm so devastating, so complete. My wrists are still tied behind my head. My legs feel like molasses. The slightest motion makes me tremble all over. I drift into this state of mind that follows pleasure. The silk piece of fabric that hides the view exacerbates my feelings. The caress from the sun progressively relaxes me. An inescapable reality hits me: My life has just taken a turn. Nothing will ever be the same as before…
Heels clicking end my daydreaming. “You must be hungry. Madame is waiting for you in her office,” whispers Lisette. She removes my blindfold and, with a very feminine gentleness, helps me up. She has wrapped her arm around my waist to hold me. Unable to walk straight, I move forward like a beat up boxer. The sun hurts my eyes. Viewed from the pool, the house looks gigantic. In front of us, a bay window twice as big as the one from which we came out, also entirely wide open, seems to invite us inside.
The brightness from outside prevents me from making out the room into which we have entered. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to get used to the difference in light.
I see myself as a slave from the Antiquity about to be offered to a cruel queen. A reaction almost undetectable takes shape between my legs. As if to make me believe that humiliation increases my desire. I start to seriously have doubts about my mental state.
To the far right of the very wide room, Madame sits as if on a throne atop a platform. She is sprawled on a small red leather sofa with a backrest made to look like the shape of a mouth. Exactly the kind of seat one would expect to see at the Crazy Horse Saloon. To her right, a plasma screen, embedded into the wall, seems to hold her attention. Behind her, Christelle and a woman of Asian origin are assessing me carefully. We move forward. Two marble columns rise from the center of the room, a few meters from the platform. Each is equipped with leather bracelets.
“Ah, here’s our little sex maniac,” shouts the blonde woman to no-one in particular, using a sarcastic tone. Her eyes haven’t left the TV set. I turn red. The tips of my breasts become erect. The stranger, who has fine features, is wearing a white blouse and a stethoscope is hanging around her neck. The sofa prevents me from seeing her entirely but her cleavage, very low cut, shows most of her breasts. Her eyes study my body without any shame. My nudity seems to captivate her.
Madame is wearing a superb green-bottle colored leather dress, very short, that shows her long legs, covered with black stockings. On her feet are red stilettos with spike heels that match the sofa. Her legs crossed, she has in her hand a cigarette holder at the end of which a cigarette is burning itself out. Her proud demeanor gives her an astounding look of beauty.
“Make her sit next to me,” she orders the little maid, talking about me as if I was a thing.
Obediently, the maid pushes me towards her boss and helps me sit next to her. Dumbstruck and not believing my eyes, I see that the screen is showing a video in which I have the title role. Suddenly, the surge of heat I was feeling just now disappears. My blood freezes in my veins. The scene that just took place by the pool, recorded with plenty of zooms on my face and my body, clearly shows the fantastic pleasure I felt while being humiliated and abused. The blood drains from my face and my limbs start shaking uncontrollably. On the screen, Madame displays the ice cube she used to caress my breasts and holds it again for the camera with a malicious smile before slapping it to my sex. The groans of pleasure I make as I push my hips forward to meet her hand demonstrate undeniably that I am totally consenting.
“You have enormous potential, my darling,” says the blond woman as she puts her hand on my thigh. “You look incredibly natural.” The world around me crumbles. The room begins to spin. I’m gasping for air. My vision turns blurry. Everything goes black.
A very bitter and unbearable smell makes me regain consciousness. I am sprawled on the red sofa, my feet raised up in the air. Someone has removed all my bonds, leaving me only with the leather collar circling my neck. The face of the Asian woman fills my line of sight. Her large black eyes are fixed on me with a worried look. She puts away the box she had under my nose and talks to me with a calm voice. “Don’t worry, I am a doctor. You fainted for a moment. Probably because you haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday. That stupid Lisette was supposed to make you eat before taking you out in the sun.” Her voice hardens when she speaks of the little maid. “That little idiot has no more common sense than a turkey.” The softness with which she caresses my face contrasts with her harsh tone of voice. “I gave you an injection that should put you back on your feet in a few minutes.” Her lips land on mine. “You are truly very pretty. Irene has a lot of luck.” Her face is very gracious and her words comfort me a little. I would be amiss to guess her age. “And you went through a lot of emotions today.”
“Where am I?” My voice sounds like a croak my throat is so dry. She hands me a glass, smiling tenderly. “You have the honor of being housed by the duchess Irene de Villemonble.” I greedily gulp down the sweet liquid that leaves me with a bit of a sour aftertaste. “Do not forget that for you, she is called Madame. It’s a piece of advice you should heed.”
Little by little, my strength returns. “Why is she keeping me prisoner here?”
“That, little girl, is not my place to say. One thing is sure, you are not a prisoner, even if the appearances may make you believe otherwise. Madame de Villemonble will explain that to you later.” She places her stethoscope between my breasts. “Take a deep breath.” My breathing is wheezy. “Relax, pretty one.” She takes my pulse. “Good, you look in better shape. Open your mouth please.” Using a tongue depressor, she looks at my throat. “Perfect. Sit up now.”
She kneels between my opened knees and puts on a rubber glove. “Put your feet on the edge of the sofa and spread your legs open.” I can feel the temperature of my face go up a notch. Expertly, her hand spreads open the lips of my sex. I jump, her finger just landed on the entrance of my vagina. “Just relax, this won’t hurt a bit.” For a moment, she explores deliciously the inside of my sex. “Little sex maniac, you are mighty sensitive.” She dunks her index finger in a small jar. “Spread your ass cheeks please.” Without saying a word, I do as told. Her finger is shining from its gooey coating. She presses it against my anus. A reflex makes me contract my intimate muscles. “Push,” she says, making it penetrate progressively inside me. For the second time in my life, my sphincter must give way to an inquisitive finger. More than disturbing, the rape of this forbidden place, a belief solidly anchored in my subconscious, gives me an excitingly strange sensation that leaves me baffled. I watch her without missing a detail of the ministrations that she imposes on me. A revealing moisture is showing up between the open lips of my sex. “It turns you on, you little slut.” She leans towards my crotch and her tongue leaves a wet trace the entire length of my sex. “You taste good.”
I can’t believe it. These women make me go through the worst kind of humiliations and I derive pleasure from them. If I could have imagined, a few days ago, what I was about to become, I would have ran away to save myself. “There, it’s over,” she tells me without any more explanation. “Stand up now. If Madame finds you on her sofa, it’s going to make her angry. That poor Lisette is in a bad enough position, no need to add to it.” She takes my head in her hands and pulls me to her to kiss me with a mouthful. Her tongue caresses mine for a long time before she lets me go, panting with desire. “Ok, hurry up, they won’t be long now.” She ends her sentence with a small slap on my ass cheeks.
“Can I go to the bathroom please? I need to go pee.”
“Not at the moment, my pretty one. Only Irene can authorize you to go. Wait here quietly.” And she leaves me, alone in the middle of the huge room.
Her tone of voice leaves me no room to appeal so I must suffer in silence. A tingling sensation tickles my legs as the blood starts to flow through them more and more. My eyes dart aimlessly about while my thoughts begin to wander. I dreamily gaze at the two columns, nearly two meters apart from one another, imagining myself tied up to them, naked, spread, offered. The room is huge and decorated with great taste. The richness of the place betrays the luxury in which my hostess lives. The paintings gracing the walls only show women, some of them immortalized in suggestive positions. Among them, a portrait of great beauty fascinates me. A young woman with a gag in her mouth seems to look at me with eyes radiating with endless happiness. On another one, two very young girls, scantly dressed, are barely kissing each other on the lips. They are lightly veiled by an artistic haze reminiscent of a David Hamilton photo. At the far end of the room, much like a queen, on a life-size painting, a portrait of Madame fills most of the wall. Hands on her hips, legs spread apart, a black cap on her head; she is dressed in an outfit consisting of matching leather pants and jacket, very tight fitting, of longs gloves made of the same material and of a pair of shiny leather boots with very high heels. From her high position, her arrogant expression, so severe that it makes me shiver, embraces the entire room, as if she was monitoring me. The spotlights pointing at the painting almost make her look alive. The marble floor is covered with a splendid red carpet, made of exotic wool and of seemingly endless length that crosses the room and stretches from the platform all the way to the painting, going between the two white marble pillars. In the middle, a second identical carpet crosses path with the first one and covers the area from the bay window to the main entrance. If I can rely on my bearings, that door must lead to the corridor we took a while back. Lost in thought, I imagine the painting coming to life and the duchess moving towards me, walking with distinction along the long red carpet.
A slapping sound followed by the muffled cry startle me. “Move faster than that you slow poke!” Madame has just entered the room, followed by Lisette. My mind starts spinning. She is wearing the exact same outfit as the one I was admiring on the painting earlier. As if she has just stepped out from the frame itself.
I then notice, on one side of the painting and leading to the center of the carpet, a double door that the room design makes almost invisible as it merges with the wall around it. The little maid does not have her black dress on anymore and the only thing left from her servant’s outfit is her white headgear and apron which contrasts with her black garter and stockings. She is moving on her knees, her arms tied behind her back, and she is progressing slowly on the carpet. Tears shine on her cheeks. A curious interlacing of leather straps outlines her torso from her chest to her waist. Armed with a whip, Madame is moving forward decidedly, pulling on a leash tied to a leather collar identical to the one I have. In spite of all her efforts, the pace is too fast and poor Lisette falls forward.
“You klutz! Have you systematically decided to annoy me today?” Two cracks of the whip, fast as lightening, land on the poor girl. A criss crossing of markings turning redder by the second blend with older, darker scars covering her body. “Straighten up now or I’ll make you pay for it.” Threatened with more pain, the maid rolls on her back and twists vigorously to get back up again. Two small rings dangle from the tip of her breasts which are as ridiculously small as mine. An ominous red mark, more so visible against her pale skin, colors her hairless sex.
My urge becomes insistent. Timidly, I take a few steps towards the pillars. At the cost of a supreme effort, I manage to overcome my shyness and dare speaking to Madame who is coming right at me. With a small voice, I ask her:
“May I go to the bathroom please Mad…” A slap across the face makes my head spin to one side.
“What gives you the right to speak to me, you little snot?”
I choke back tears, quickly turning my eyes down to the ground.
“Should I have you take the place of that dopey Lisette to make you learn to respect the few miserable orders I gave you this morning?”
“Forgive me Madame, it will not happen again.” Heavy from the weight of all that culpability, I kneel at her feet.
“I like that better. I really want to forgive you but…” She stops for a moment, as if she were thinking about it. “On the condition that you give me proof of your good faith. A real proof. Nor just a small kiss like this morning…”
Her incomplete sentence makes my head spin. The more I think about it, the more my mind comes up empty. The challenge paralyzes me. I feel like I have gone back a few years when, as a little girl caught doing something wrong, I couldn’t find anything to say to justify myself. Tears of scorn now replace the ones caused by the slap. In despair, burdened by my helplessness, I burst into tears. Heavy from the weight of the grief ravaging me, I find myself only a few centimeters from her boots.
I throw myself at her feet and wrap my arms around her ankles. My cheek pressed against the patent leather, I desperately plead my case. “I am truly sorry Madame. Forgive me, please.” To give more weight to my request, I plant a kiss on the top of her foot.
“Not bad, young girl. It’s a good start. I am sure that you can be even more convincing.”
Encouraged by her comments, I intensify my efforts. The smell of leather enters my nostrils. With devotion, I plant a thousand kisses on her boots. I rub my face against the shiny leather.
Comforting, her husky voice comes to me from high above her long legs. “Good, you’re beginning to understand, Sandrine. You’re almost there.” Using the tip of her whip, she caresses my cheek.
Ready to do anything to calm her wrath, I spinelessly lick the tips of her boots without paying attention to the taste of leather that fills my mouth.
“Finally… Here we are,” she says softly. “Your hands now.”
Without hesitation, I cross them behind my back and humbly continue worshipping her feet, drowning them with saliva and tears.
She interrupts me by taking a step back.
“Very well, I forgive you. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Pulling with a sharp tug on the leash, she goes around me dragging Lisette behind her and heads towards the sofa. “You, move! Recess is over.” Her tone is harsh once again.
I stupidly remain between the two columns, sitting on my heels. My urge to go pee has quieted down. The detachment she shows for me hurts me more than the slap and the humiliation of licking her boots. What kind of powers does this woman have at her disposal to fascinate me so much? My nipples are hard as wood and a terrible frustration ravages my belly.
“Sandrine! Come near me.” Feeling a tremendous relief, I hurry up to join them. The idea that she can take care of Lisette without paying attention to me is insufferable. Without taking her eyes off Lisette, she distractively taps on the leather next to her, inviting me to sit.
Standing in front of her boss, her legs spread apart and her eyes drawn, the young girl is waiting for her Mistress’ good will. I nervously notice the degree with which the tender skin of her pubis and her sex is red and swollen. The idea of getting sunburned there seems to me pointedly absurd. Visibly she is suffering because her jaws, shut tight by the efforts she makes to stifle her moans, make her lips look white. Our eyes meet but she looks away immediately. Her eyelids are red from all the tears and her mascara, tracing long black lines on her cheeks, cannot make her look ugly.
“Turn around Lisette. Position #5.” The little maid shows us her back, leans forward and, with her legs slightly parted, puts her hands on her ass cheeks to pull them apart, presenting us her anus. Madame teases the small orifice with the tip of her whip. “I’m pondering whether I should put some in there too.”
“Have mercy, Madame.” Her small voice is pitiful, broken by her sobs. I do not understand what they are talking about. “I beg of you, not in the asshole…” A scathing lash from the whip makes her stop talking. A new red mark appears.
“When will you understand that you cannot express yourself using that kind of trash talk anymore? If you think that this is the way you can soften me up, you are gravely mistaken, girl.” She turns to me. “Isn’t she ridiculous?” Again, her eyes captivate me. I don’t know what to say in answer. “You’ll have to decide what you want, young girl. You speak without authorization and when I ask you something, you don’t answer. I find that annoying.”
“N… No, no, Madame. I am sorry. It’s just that I don’t know what to say.”
“Good point, girl. When you have nothing to say, best to shut up.”
My heartbeat rises. Her hurting tone only adds to my humiliation.
“Lisette, go get me that sauce that you love so much please. And don’t dawdle.”
“So Sandrine, are you feeling better now?”
“Yes Madame, I don’t know that happened to me earlier.”
“It wasn’t your fault. That bird-brain had orders to give you something to eat this afternoon. But don’t worry; it won’t be long before we move to the dining room.”
She caresses my cheek with her gloved hand. “Tonight, you will share my table. Just give me some time to finish taking care of that idiot and we can go have something to eat. Tomorrow, you go back home.”
That revelation hits me like a ton of bricks. “You mean that you will free me?”
“Of course, you silly little thing. You will learn that I never force anyone. I have no need to keep here people against their will. I have known Ghislaine and Sylvie for many months through my modeling agency. It’s there that we met. Christelle has found them a “gig” and I think they will take part in the next fashion show prepared by Karl.
“Karl… Karl Lagerfeld ???”
“The very one, sweetheart. He’s one of my good friends. ‘Angels’ had provided him with the majority of his models for almost 20 years.”
Angels… I can’t believe it. It’s a world famous model agency.
“He’s the one who introduced me to Lisette. He had noticed her during a visit to a trade school in a Paris suburb where he was the guest of honor. He was attending a presentation about jobs in the fashion world. That silly little thing kept imagining that one day she would strut her stuff on the catwalk. How can one be so stupid? She kept thinking that her pretty young face, her tiny waist and her 1m55 would be enough to become a model. Of course, she had spent her entire childhood in the suburb, away from the city. It explains why I had the toughest time teaching her good manners…”
Lisette’s return, still in tears, interrupts her.
“It’s about time. I thought I was going to have to go get you.”
Without answering, the little maid resumes her position. She holds between her interlocked hands a tube of sauce “harissa” that Madame grabs and hands to me while the young girl spreads again the perfectly round form of her small ass cheeks.
“This little stuck-up girl has been at my service full time for more than three years now. Do you think that those three long years, during which I spent an endless amount of time trying to teach her good manners, will bear fruit?”
Before I can answer, she continues. “Not even close. She always has to find something to forget. As soon as I turn my back, she lets herself go, she expresses herself swearing like a trooper.”
Lisette’s sniffles are breaking my heart.
“But it’s all an act. In fact, that little one is just a sex maniac who loves to suffer.”
“No Madame, I…”
“Shut up you little snot. I didn’t allow you to speak.”
She slides a gloved index finger along the sex of the maid and shows it to me, wet, glistening with the secretions from Lisette.
“Look, she’s so wet she should be ashamed. That naughty little girl loves to be mistreated. The more she suffers, the more she loves it.”
She grabs one of her intimate lips between her thumb and forefinger and pinches it, stretching it cruelly.
“Sandrine, put a little bit of hot sauce here please,” she says, putting out her index finger.
With a mix of horror and curiosity, I unscrew the cap from the tube and do as she has asked. A small dab of reddish-purple sauce wraps around the tip of her index.
“A little more please. There, perfect.”
Lisette sobs louder and louder, her sniffles fill the room. Her hands are contorted on her two ass globes and I have the feeling that she is spreading them a little further so as to give better access to her anus. With the index of her free hand, Madame teases the maid’s sphincter.
“Push my darling, you wouldn’t want for any of it to spill and mar the carpet, would you?”
“No Madame.”
With a small movement from her muscles, the rectum relaxes to welcome the gloved index finger from the blonde who, by turning it around a little, makes it penetrate some before pulling it out to pick up a little more of the blood red sauce. This obscene scene captivates me. An excitement close to the one I felt earlier by the pool is beginning to torture me. A drop of liquid escapes from the sex of Lisette and hangs from a tiny, slimy thread. Delicately, progressing little by little, Madame covers the anus of her maid with the hot sauce. A deep sigh comes at us from the throat of the little servant.
“Look at the bright side, this will lubricate you.”
I dare not imagine the burning sensation that Lisette is feeling. The pepper must be chafing her mucus like hell. The finger is now deep embedded in the young girl’s gut. Methodically, she inserts all the sauce in the sphincter. The moans from the tortured victim become louder and louder. Her breathing is faster.
“Now you have every reason to run as if your ass was on fire.”
From my spot, I can see her body becoming covered with sweat. Large drops drip on her forehead.
“Time to go sit at the dinner table.”
She gets up and unties the little maid’s wrists.
“You are forbidden to clean up for now. I will ask Christelle to check on you later. Understood?”
“Yes Madame.”
“Perfect. Now hurry up. Go prepare your tray and set the table. I’m giving you 10 minutes.”
Lisette leaves us running. She trips on her heels exiting the room. A little dazed, I also get up.
“Come here young girl,” the blond woman tells me sitting down.
Like an obsession, the scene I have just witnessed replays itself over and over in my head. I suspiciously move closer.
“I want to check your capacity to adapt to the lifestyle in place here. Position #1, between my legs, immediately.”
My brain kicks in automatically. I kneel right away, thighs spread, arms crossed behind my back, facing her. The scene with the hot sauce has given me wings.
“Well done Sandrine.”
I deserve no credit. Along with the #5, it’s the only one I know.
“A little harder now: Position #2.”
A moment of panic makes my head spin for an instant. The scene by the pool comes back to mind while an exquisite shiver races across my lower stomach. In doubt, I cross my hands behind my head.
“Bravo my pretty one.”
Her husky voice, filled with softness, comforts me.
“Move closer a little bit more.”
A little more reassured by my success, I move up further between her legs.
“Lean back, head tilted backwards…Good. Spread your elbows and your knees… More than that. There. With your eyes closed now… Perfect.”
I give her my spread out body, offered, totally submitted to her every whim. The promptness with which I executed her orders leaves me flabbergasted. I wonder if it’s the fear or the desire to please her that motivates me the most.
“Excellent Sandrine. You learn quickly.”
She pats my chin, caresses my neck.
“Don’t be afraid my pretty one, I have no intention of punishing you for the time being.”
The tips of my breasts are taut, hard as wood. She grabs them both with her two hands and rolls them between thumbs and index fingers. I feel my sex open up for a silent request. A groan escapes from my throat before I can stop it.
“I like you a lot. I will have a hard time letting you go.”
The pressure of her gloved fingers increases. My desire commands my will even more. A cold and hard contact between my intimate lips startles me. Undecided, I let my mind wander, imagining that she has just slid a vibrator between my legs. The intruder is becoming more and more pressing. More imperative also, forcing its way slowly yet forcefully through the entrance of my sex. I lean back further. The pressure changes to a rubbing back and forth. The object travels along the length of my slit. The pinching becomes painful. As incredible as it may seem, my desire increases proportionally. The more her fingers bite, the more I offer my sex to the unfamiliar caress attacking it.
“That’s enough. Look at me.”
An immense frustration overtakes me. The suddenness with which she becomes disinterested in my body is almost painful. I open my eyes, whimpering in frustration. Christelle and Doctor Lee are both sitting on the sofa on either side of Madame. A terrible shame sweeps over me.
“Little sex fiend! You’ve made me wet. Clean that up immediately.”
She points the whip to the tip of her boot made all shiny from my intimate secretions. The other two women are staring at me with a knowing look.
“Hurry up; we have to go sit at the dinner table.”
I am so overwhelmed I can’t think straight. Frustration, shame, pleasure and pain dance all at once in my head. A lash from the whip stings my hip.
“I don’t make a habit of repeating myself. Have you gone deaf?”
That’s all I need. I get on all four to obey her.
“Position #1.”
Compliantly, I cross my hands behind my back. The incredible quantity of secretion I generated to stain the tip of her boot surprises me. Willingly, I undertake the task of licking the end of her foot under the watch eye of the three women. My degradation is complete. What kind of depraved girl am I really?
“Lisette! How long before you’re done or will we have to wait all night?”
“It’s ready Madame.”
Without saying a word, she pushes me back using the flat sole from the other boot and gets up. Then, changing her mind, she sits back down.
“The other one,” she says presenting me her left foot.
Next: First contract.
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