Sara's Silken Ladder Ch. 04

'She'll have to get rid of those, if she's coming to work for us,' commented Kirsty, as I rummaged in a drawer for a tape-measure I had seen there. I took her measurements, unable to resist a little tweak on those lovely nipples while I taped her bust, and, as I was noting it all down, together with her shoe size, Kirsty told me that they had agreed that Ana should start the following week. She said she had outlined the girl's duties, mainly light housework and cooking, and that she had seemed delighted.

'But what do you think?' Kirsty asked me.

'I think she's charming,' I said.

'Will you prefer her to me?' she said, her green eyes serious.

'Of course not, darling. She will serve us well, though, I think, and we'll learn to use her, I'm sure.' The ambiguity of my words wasn't lost on my friend, and she came over to my armchair and bent to kiss me. Meanwhile, I had motioned to Ana that she could get dressed again, and she was busy doing up her bow again. She watched us kissing from under lowered eyelids.

During the next few days, I made Ana two black minidresses out of soft, silky material, both with very short, flared, skirts, and another one, similar, but out of transparent black nylon – 'for special occasions,' Kirsty said – and we bought her black, fishnet stockings and patent heels, which I thought she would find very uncomfortable, as I had never seen her in high heels of any type.

Kirsty's welts had now faded to almost nothing – just pink stripes which now looked really pretty on her white, straight back. When, knowing how much she had loved the whip, I asked her if she was missing the lifestyle, she said, 'Just at this moment, you are all I want, darling. Maybe we can help each other to forget, and I think Ana will provide a diversion, don't you?'

I knew what she meant – we had clearly been thinking along the same lines. I had been musing on that for a while – I was changing – I had changed, and the change seemed to be continuous. I had become a Lesbian, gradually at first, then Helen had turned me into a slave, a pain-slut if you like, but I detested the description. Now I had inclinations towards domination – I felt I was on a ladder – my Silken Ladder. Thing was, did Kirsty feel the same way? And what would the arrival of Ana do for us? Life promised some interesting time ahead.

The week passed pleasantly. The weather was gorgeous, and Kirsty and I spent a lot of time stretched out by the pool, or making slow, leisurely love either in the shallow end of the pool or on the lawn beside it. I was happy, but somehow knew that we should have to move on – however idyllic our lives seemed, a certain spice was lacking.

But one evening, I had a thrilling indication that Kirsty was putting her experiences with Simone behind her. It was our custom by now to dress up in the evenings – both of us liked to see the other in nice clothes, and it often led to a bout of lovemaking, but this one, hot evening, Kirsty stood up from the table, saying, 'I feel so hot!'

She was wearing a long gown, and I admired her as she stood there, her slim form clothed in the red silk sheath. But suddenly, she picked up the water-pitcher from the table – it was almost full.

Slowly and deliberately, her sexy green eyes on me all the time, she started to pour water down her legs, instantly turning the silk of her gown a shade darker. Very slowly and incredibly sexily, she raised the jug until the first trickle of cold water ran down between her breasts, then, her eyes closed in ecstasy, she emptied the entire contents of the jug over her slim shoulders, drenching herself completely, so that her dress clung to her, nipples showing firm and erect through the wet silk. I couldn't believe how sexy this was, and, getting up from the table, fetched another pitcherful of water from the kitchen. Standing in front of Kirsty, I ran a stream down my legs, over my green satin dress, then, mimicking her, raised the jug and slowly soaked myself, loving the sensuous feel of the wet material against my skin. Neither of us spoke a word during the whole process, but then we stripped off our gowns, and made love, wet through, on the tiled floor – it had never felt better to have her long, searching tongue insisting its way into my wet, eager cunt, while I lapped her fragrant crack and pushed two fingers deep into the velvet tunnel of her arsehole.

We were ready for Ana when she arrived, carrying a small suitcase, precariously seated on the back of her mother's moped. Her hair was scraped back into a long pony-tail. Her mother seemed pleased that we had given her daughter a job, and gladly accepted Kirsty's offer of a coffee. With Kirsty translating for me, Maria asked us to be strict with her daughter, saying that she needed a firm hand, and I caught Kirsty's glance in my direction, a half-smile on her full lips.

Once her mother had gone, I took Ana to her room, a nice airy one beside the kitchen, with an en-suite shower room. One wall was filled by mirror-doored wardrobes, and, besides the bed, there was a dressing-table, an easy chair, and a reading lamp.

'Let me see what you've brought,' I told her, and she hesitantly opened her case.

'Take everything out,' I said, and as she did so, I set aside a trashy novel with a bookmark halfway through, a few medicaments, some creams I thought would do no harm, and a framed photo of her parents.

'Put the rest back in your case,' I said, 'and it can go into the store, together with those things, when they've been washed,' I indicated the jeans and shirt she was wearing – 'you will, from now on, only wear what is provided for you.'

She looked put out at this, but I stepped over to the wardrobe, slid the doors open, and showed her the three dresses I had made, plus a few skirts, blouses and summer dresses, and a long evening dress, which she felt between finger and thumb appreciatively. I then opened the drawers at one side of the wardrobe, and showed her the collection of nightdresses and slips we had assembled, as well as a selection of garter-belts and stockings, and a black corset. Below the drawers were four pairs of shoes, all with very high needle heels.

In the dressing-table drawer, we had put all the jewellery she would need – ear-rings, bangles and waist- and ankle-chains. We had stocked her shower-room with a selection of cosmetics.

Ana slumped onto the bed, bemused by everything, and looked at me with huge, bewildered eyes.

'I no know what I say,' she said, 'It is so…..no, I can't…don't have the words.'

I smiled and said, 'Don't say anything, Ana, just put on these things, then come to the lounge.'

I laid one of her dresses over the bed, followed by a black satin garter belt and a pair of fishnet stockings. I pulled out a pair of her shoes, and left her to it.

'Will she be OK?' asked Kirsty when I rejoined her.

'I think so, when she settles in. She'll be in in a few minutes.'

Kirsty made me laugh by striking a pose, stood by the stone fireplace in her pleated blue skirt and cream silk blouse, tapping a riding crop I didn't know she had against a long, bestockinged leg.

'You look as if you're going to enjoy being the mistress,' I said.

'I am rather looking forward to it, aren't you?'

I admitted that I was.

Ana appeared then, looking distinctly nervous, tottering slightly on her unaccustomed heels, slender legs encased in fishnet stockings, the tops of which were only partially hidden under the hem of her black dress. A frilly white apron was a reminder of her new status.

'You look fine, Ana,' said Kirsty, 'and from now on, I shall speak to you only in English. You will obey both of us at all times, and we are to be addressed as "Miss Sara" and "Miss Kirsty," is that understood?'

Ana nodded.

'I said "is that understood?"'

'Yes, Miss Kirsty.'

'Good, because we can't have disobedience – we would have to punish you for that.'

'Punish me? Does that mean you whip me?'

'Probably, yes,' she said, waving the crop around to emphasise the point. But Ana didn't look at all surprised at her reply. She continued: 'Sara will have told you that you must wear only what we have provided. You will have a day off each week, and any time you want to visit your family, you may ask us. There really are very few rules.'

'Yes, Miss Kirsty.'

'Now come here,' she told her, and the girl walked hesitantly up to Kirsty, who poked the crop towards her, causing her almost to lose her balance on her heels. But she just used the crop to lift the hem of Ana's dress, revealing her white thighs, and a triangle of pubic hair, which Kirsty poked at with the end of the crop.

'Get rid of that!' she said, 'it's disgusting.'

I tried to calm the girl down. 'Tell me, Ana, if there's anything else you need.'

'Yes, Miss Sara, I can't find any bragas o sujetadores in my drawers.'

'Panties or bras,' translated Kirsty.

'That's because you are not allowed to wear them from now on,' I replied, 'is that clear?'

'Yes, Miss Sara.'

'You'll get used to it – and the heels. Go now and get us some lunch – there are some chops in the fridge, and stuff for a salad too.'

Kirsty again translated, and Ana wobbled out.

'What do you think?' Kirsty asked.

'I think she's sweet, and she'll do fine,' I said, and you're starting to sound like a real mistress.'

'Hmm,' she mused, 'I could just enjoy being one. But you're not doing badly yourself. I loved the bit about not being allowed underwear, darling – and I hope you practice what you preach.' She reached over and, using her crop again, lifted the hem of my skirt.

'Lovely,' she remarked, 'I feel a little something stirring.'

When, half an hour later, I looked up from between Kirsty's long, slender legs, I saw that Ana was standing in the doorway. She turned and fled when she saw that I had seen her.

'Go fetch her,' said Kirsty, as she smoothed her skirt back into place, 'I think we should talk to her again.'

'Yes mistress,' I said, curtsying.

'Oh, silly, I didn't mean it like that,' she said.

'I know, darling,' I replied, halfway to the door. I stuck my head into the kitchen.

'Ana,' I said, 'come into the lounge, will you?'

She turned towards me from where she had been chopping vegetables.

'Yes, Miss Sara,' she said, and I loved the sound of that.

I was sat beside Kirsty when Ana came in, still a little unsteady on the ultra-high heels we had compelled her to wear.

'You were watching us make love,' said Kirsty, evenly.

'Yes, Miss Kirsty, I'm sorry, Miss Kirsty,' she said, a tremble in her voice.

Kirsty turned to me. 'I think that warrants a little punishment, don't you, darling?'

'Oh, certainly,' I replied, 'I think we should punish her after dinner.'

'Yes, that's a good idea. She can anticipate her punishment until then – it's so much sweeter that way.'

I nodded. 'Yes, Ana, you can go now, and carry on with what you were doing. You will be punished after dinner.'

The brunette walked out carefully, glancing back over her shoulder to see us watching her. She was making an obvious effort to accustom herself to the four inch needle heels.

Kirsty called her back.

'Lift your skirt!' she said, and Ana understood, did as she was told, a smug expresion on her face as we saw her completely clean-shaven pussy. She had a pronounced 'camel-toe' effect, her slit starting high up into her mound. I felt a surge of desire for her young body, so lewdly displayed.

'Very good,' said Kirsty, and waved her imperiously away.

Apart from a slight tremble as she served my meal, Ana showed no sign of nervousness at the prospect of being punished, but we decided to make her wait a little longer, and took our time over coffee, then sat together on the settee, Kirsty idly stroking my thigh through the thin white silk of my long dress, Ana standing waiting with the coffee pot, in case we wanted a refill.

At length, Kirsty turned half towards her.

'Ana!'

'Yes, Miss Kirsty.'

'Come and stand in front of us, and take off your dress.'

She walked rather hesitantly around, stood before us, and obediently reached behind her neck, pulled down the long zipper of her little black dress, then slid it from her slim shoulders, and pushed it down over her hips so that it fell to the floor in a pool about her feet. She looked gorgeous in nothing but her skimpy garter belt and seamed fishnet stockings, perched on those exaggerated heels. Her dark nipples stood to attention on their puffy aureolas, thrusting out from her almost flat chest, but when her hands strayed down subconsciously to cover her pussy, Kirsty reached down beside the sofa for the riding crop and gestured towards it. She snatched her hands way.

'Hands behind your head,' she said, 'and kneel on this!' She threw a cushion down on the floor, and Ana looked up at me as if asking me to rescue her as she knelt. I looked into her big, dark eyes, and realised then that, far from appealing for salvation, she was asking to be punished! Her eyes held the secret – the desire of a true submissive. I could identify with that passionate longing, the need to be hurt, to submit to cruel ritual, for I had felt like that when my mistress, Helen, had whipped me what seemed like a whole reincarnation in my past.

'What do you say we each give her three strokes?' said Kirsty.

'It doesn't seem very much,' I replied.

'It's her first time.' Then, to Ana, she said, 'You know this will hurt, don't you?'

Ana nodded.

'You'd like us to hurt you, wouldn't you, you little slut?' I interjected.

She nodded again, and I looked at Kirsty. 'She ought to ask us to whip her,' she said, and Ana seemed to understand, because she said, 'Please, Miss Kirsty.'

'Please, what?' demanded the American girl, harshly.

'Please whip me,' said Ana, barely audibly, but when she looked up at me again, there was pride, and almost a challenge, on her face.

'You first,' said Kirsty, handing me the crop. I got up and stood beside Ana, lifting her long black main of silky hair over her shoulder so that it fell over her tiny left breast. I gave the crop a trial swish, then sparing nothing, drew back my arm and lashed Ana with all my strength, knowing that nothing less would do. The stroke fell with a loud 'crack' across the middle of her lightly-tanned back, raising an instant angry red stripe right across the width of her tender flesh. She flinched and gasped slightly, but didn't cry out, though the stroke must have hurt terribly. I traced the welt with a finger, then took aim again, and brought a second stinging blow down between her shoulder-blades, causing her to moan softly, and making another bright red line above the first one. Without delay, I followed up with a third, putting all my force into a vicious lash, the crop's leather falling now onto her lower back, and bringing a sharp, 'Oh!' from Ana's lips. I passed the crop to Kirsty.

My lover fell to her task readily, and 'filled in' the gaps my own strokes had left, her three blows leaving Ana's straight, slender back prettily patterned with red stripes. Kirsty drew only gasps and a low moan from the maid, whose hand had strayed again to her pussy as the final stroke came – this time her beautiful face waas screwed into a grimace which made me think she was surely putting the final touches to an orgasm. My impression was confirmed when she shuddered convulsively and lay writhing on the floor.

'My, you really are a little slut!' said Kirsty, poking her ribs with the sharp toe of her shoe, 'in future you will ask permission before you cum, is that understood?'

Ana nodded.

'I said, is that understood?'

'Yes Miss Kirsty.'

'Good, now you can go.'

With that, as our new maid left, Kirsty threw herself down on the sofa beside me, and we kissed for a long time, our tongues entwining, hands kneading each others' breasts through the soft silk of our dresses, both of us inflamed with what we had just done to Ana. God, she was hot!

I spread my legs when she slid up the hem of my dress, and gasped louder than Ana had when her busy fingers found the lips of my pussy, then expertly teased my clit from its hiding place, grazing it with a probing nail. Her head went down beteen my legs, her thick, silky brown hair sensuous against my thighs. Then her long tongue was thrusting deep, deep into my hot, wet cunt, and all the pent-up passion which had built as I flogged our lovely servant came, literally gushing out as I drenched my lover with vaginal fluid.

Kirsty rummaged under the cushion as I came back to life after my tearing orgasm, and handed me a huge, pink dildo. Wordlessly, she parted her long, slim legs and, using both hands, spread wide her juicy, pink vagina, never taking her eyes off mine, and letting her tongue, which had so recently savoured my own juices, dart out from between her even white teeth in silent invitation. I sucked and moistened the dildo, then eased it slowly into her eager, waiting cunt. She sighed with relief as she took its whole mighty length, then I fucked her with it, matching my rhythm to hers as I worked the great shaft in and out. Her eyes went suddenly glassy, and she stiffened perceptibly when her climax came, then we lay together, quite spent, long into the night.

For the next few days, we concentrated on teaching Ana as much English as we could, as well as, in my case, trying to learn some Spanish. Her wounds were only superficial, and when I got her to pull down her dress and looked at them, three days after her first whipping, they had faded to a nice pattern of pink stripes. After I had looked at them, I kissed her gently, letting my studded tongue linger in her mouth.

'Are you happy with us, Ana?' I asked.

'Oh yes, Miss Sara,' she replied, then blushing prettily, added, 'I am more happy than ever in my life.'

'Even if we punish you?'

She looked away shyly, 'I like when you do that.'

One hot evening, when Kirsty had gone off shopping, I lounged around before going to bed. I felt hot, and did something I had never done before – stood under the shower in my long silk nightgown and negligee. Since the time when Kirsty had poured water over herself as I watched her, then joined in, I had developed a fascination for being wet. The cool, soft jet of water made the silk cling instantly to my body, and I gasped with the erotic sensuality of it, smoothing the soaked silk over my breasts and around my body, until, as I was almost on the point of cumming, the bathroom door swung open. I thought it was Ana, on some cleaning mission, but no, it was Kirsty, back from shopping, wearing a long Indian cotton dress.

'Mmmm,' she murmured, and, without pausing to undress, slipped under the cool jet with me. The thin cotton of her dress was rendered instantly transparent, moulded to her lovely body like a second skin. As soon as she started soaping me, long, lazy strokes caressing my body through the wet silk, I came, with my customary, shudderingly violent surge. As soon as I could open my eyes, I quickly brought Kirsty to her own orgasm – I hardly had to touch her, she was so aroused – then we tumbled out onto the cool tiles of the baathroom floor, and stripped off our sodden garments, rolling around on towels to dry off, and giggling like schoolgirls.

When we slipped into towelling robes, I said, 'That's just given me an idea.'

'Oh?'

I told her what I had in mind, as we went in search of something to eat.

'Sounds great,' she said, 'let's find an excuse to do it.'

I thought about that. After dinner, I called Ana over to me, and when she stood obediently by my chair, I lifted the hem of her little skirt and ran th palm of my hand over her mound. The tiniest vestiges of stubble had started to grow.