Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 08

He recognized that he was driving her to a second orgasm. He felt so proud, and so fulfilled, to be having this effect on her: he could be some use to her, she could take some pleasure from his. Suddenly Master's fingers intruded themselves between slave's face and Cindy's pussy. He pushed slave's head away a few inches, and then used his own fingers to complete Cindy's orgasm. She shuddered, and clasped her body to his, and they were kissing tenderly again. Slave flet robbed: Master had stolen this from him. Master won at every step.

Slave focused on the tastes of their cum in his mouth, and their scents smeared all over his face. Master sat up, and Cindy rolled over, and propped her head up on a bent elbow. They both looked at slave. Her breasts cascaded smoothly toward the bed.

"So, did it taste good?" Master asked.

"Yes Master," slave answered, swallowing automatically. Though he had swallowed most of it, his mouth still held a layer of cum. Cindy's eyes grinned thinly, and her lips pursed, creating miraculous dimples at either side.

"Was it the best you ever tasted?" Master asked.

"Yes master." Slave did not hesitate, it was true.

"Oh dear, Brad will be upset when he hears that." Slave looked down, then remembered his manners, and looked up. Cindy's glowing smile was blinding: she seemed so proud of the Master, so satisfied in having given herself to him. Her cheeks were flushed. Slave had never seen her cheeks flushed so fully before.

"When you are getting your ass fucked this evening, and you feel you can't take it anymore, think about the privileges you just had. If you can give your ass up to as many guys as I see fit, you might have this privilege again. After you give up your ass, you might get a chance to help Cindy bathe, comb her hair, get dressed."

Cindy stuck out her tongue, and grimaced comically, as though about to gag. Master addressed Cindy "After he has given up his ass, you won't need to think of him as a man. Just think of him as an old woman that's there to help. You are a queen, Cindy, and you deserve a handmaid." She curled one lip dubiously, but seemed contented. She stared at slave blankly, as though he was an object. Pride expressed itself in her jaw.

Master spoke to slave: "I want you to go now and tidy up. Wash your face and then go to your room and pull up your stockings, straighten your garters, fix your makeup; that sort of thing. You need to look pretty for the boys tonight. Put on more oil: a lot of it. I suggest you work a few fingers of Vaseline up your asshole. It's going to be a long hard night. When you're done, sit on the stool, and wait for us to get to you." Cindy smirked at slave as he backed obediently out of the room.

Slave followed Master's instructions. He did not wash out his mouth however, as he wanted to keep their flavor in there, coating his tongue and lining his teeth. He felt vulgar working the Vaseline up his asshole with his fingers, reaching around from behind, and up under from between his knees. He worried about the coming pain, so he used a lot of Vaseline.

He finished his preparations, and then sat up on the stool in his novelty saucy French maid's outfit, savoring the mingled flavors of Cindy's and Master's cum. Suddenly, Cindy walked in unannounced. She was wearing blue jeans and a jumper. "Hello Peter," she said casually, and smiling in a friendly way. She said: "Brian want you to speak to Brad and tell him what you told us about how good he tastes. That OK?" She stood smirking at him.

"Of course, Cindy," he said meekly, not able to meet her mocking eyes, looking down at her superb thighs under denim.

She held the phone to her ear. Peter looked up to meet her eyes, and she held his eyes with hers. There was a humorous gleam in her eyes as she waited for an answer. "Hi Brad. This is Cindy. How are you?" She listened, and giggled. Her voice was so charming, so rich and so sweet. She had never once spoken to Peter like this; she had never once graced him with her charm. "I'm good. . . yes. . . yes . . . Brian tell me you are really good teacher. . . Why don't you like teaching? I think your students must love to have such a cool and handsome teacher. . . yes. . . yes. . . Are you still looking for a new job?" Cindy's eyes narrowed and she looked deep into Peter's eyes, curious to see, it seemed, how much her words would hurt him. "I think a position is available where I work soon. . . yes. . . he maybe go away soon, need someone replace him. . . I'd enjoy working with you too," she purred. "Brian tell me you going to big party tonight. . . Hope you have good time. . . yes. . . Sorry bug you, Brian want Peter talk to you. Is that OK?" She listened, and giggled richly. "Yes. . . yes. . . Hope see you soon too. Have nice evening. Here is Peter. . . Bye." She turned on the speaker function of her phone, and handed it to Peter.

"Thank you, Cindy," Peter said.

"You're welcome," she said with mock warmth. She crossed her arms and leaned on one hip. He could make out her Venus mound under the jeans. He began to blush. She was going to wait for him to finish the call. She stared into his eyes tauntingly, with an ironic smirk and her chin forward smugly.

"Hello sir, this is Brian's slave."

Cindy began looking around the room, at the Vaseline, oils, aprons, collars, paddles and canes. With her back turned he had a chance to admire her ass, and his cock began to grow.

"What can I do for you Brian's slave?"

"Please sir, Master asked me to call and tell you that of all the cum I have swallowed, yours tasted the best."

"Wow," Brad laughed, "how flattering. I'm glad you liked it." There was a pause, and then Brad continued. "I enjoyed feeding it to you. Most bitches demand a bit of respect. You're different that way. That's what I like about you."

"Thank you, sir."

"Was there anything else?"

"No sir, that was all. Thank you."

"Oh. Well, thanks for calling. I look forward to our next meeting."

"So do I, sir."

"Bye bye."

"Bye bye."

Cindy was standing right beside him now, smirking. He looked down at her big breasts and handed her the phone.

"Thank you Cindy."

"You're welcome. You can wait here little while longer," she said efficiently.

"Thank you Cindy."

As she left the room, he watched the arrogance of her full ass in its dealings with the denim. He sucked at his teeth and tongue to dislodge more of her flavor. She closed the door behind her. The Vaseline in his asshole made the stool very slippery. His cock was again engorged, and standing tall and proud.

He waited for about half an hour. He could not make out words from the living room, but it seemed Brian was making telephone calls. Cindy seemed to be watching television. The time waiting gave his apprehension about being ass fucked by as many guys as Master chose a chance to grow. He felt very sorry for himself. He felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter. He was biting his lip in apprehension. He had once let a girlfriend stick a smallish dildo in his ass, but it hurt so much that he never tried it again. He kept slipping off the stool. Occasionally, he had to reattach a garter.

Cindy did not knock: she simply opened the door, and stated flatly, "Brian want you come in now." She stood holding the door open, her eyebrows raised quizzically, the face below them void of any sign of emotion. There was no sympathy or mercy in her face. Her raised eyebrows seemed to say 'what are you going to do about this? Are you going to go through with it?'

"Thank you Cindy," slave said getting up from the stool. His asshole slid as he got up, making a slick, slippery sound. As he slunk past her she let one side of her upper lip raise in contempt. She slapped his ass hard, and he scuttled ahead. She closed the door and followed.

Slave stood in front of Master at a distance of perhaps two meters. His cock was at half mast, holding the skirt out at ninety degrees. Cindy could hear that Cindy had sat at the kitchen counter behind him, and was snacking on something. It seemed that she exaggerated the smacking of her lips: she always allowed herself to fully enjoy her food.

"Are you ready," Master asked slave.

"Yes Master," slave said politely, maintaining eye contact. .

"I warn you," Master said, "the guys I've organized to fuck your ass are no gentlemen. You understand that don't you?"

"Yes Master."

"I'd better give you a safeword. . . If you feel you can't stand getting your ass reamed anymore, just say 'I don't love Cindy anymore,' and whoever's doing you will slip his dick out of your ass and it will all be over; you can clean up and go home."

Slave looked around at Cindy, and said pleadingly: "I can never say that."

She met his eyes, still chewing food, and attempted to look through him as though he were a thing, but then she swallowed and pursed her lips and looked down at his cock. Perhaps, slave thought, she felt a little bit of pity for him.

"If you need strength to carry on, I tell you that if you satisfy all the cock in the room with your asshole, Cindy will never again consider you as a man, and I will never see you as a threat. Then, you will have more chances to eat my cum, and you will get the chance to hang around and do little jobs for Cindy, even when I'm not here. You will need to go away for a while first though, to learn get some help for your particular mental problems."

Cindy smiled at Master sunnily.

Slave resolved never to use the safeword, no matter what.

Master went over to Cindy and said "Are you ready, dear?"

"Ready," she said, getting up off the stool. They shared a smile. They were such a good couple. Slave's heart sunk as his cock raised: the old see-saw dynamic.

Master handed slave his own car keys. Slave curtsied. Cindy giggled, standing close to Master, facing slave.

Master said to slave: "Go and bring your car around front, and wait for us."

Slave looked down at his turgid cock, and said: "Please master, may I wear the track suit."

"Sorry, not tonight. Maybe you can take a purse to cover yourself up with. What do you think, Cindy," Master asked.

"Xing" – ok – she stated indifferently.

Master handed slave a big, pink velvet purse. "Oh, Cindy," Master said, "I nearly forgot. Did you laminate that paper I asked you to?"

Cindy laughed, and went straight to a drawer. She handed slave a laminated A4 page, holding his eyes tauntingly as he took it from her. He glanced down and noted that the A4 page said in big, bold capitol letters "Please fuck my ass." Slave curtsied to Cindy, and said "Thank you Cindy." She curled her lip, and stepped back to Master. Master gestured at slave to leave, shooing him with the back of his hand. Cindy's eyes gleamed with humor.

Slave went to the door. He tucked his cock up under the belt of the apron, and held the pink purse and the laminated A4 page, words in toward him, in front of his cock.

He opened the door and stepped out into the hall nervously. He heard Master and Cindy laughing together as he closed the door behind himself. He wore a blonde bob wig, and makeup. He wore his pink collar, and a novelty French maid's outfit with a white frilly apron. The skirt of the novelty maid's outfit came to just beneath the lower crease of his ass. If he bent over at all, his ass would be naked, as he had not been allowed to wear panties. There was three inches of bare skin between the bottom of the skirt and the top of the white stockings. This bare flesh gleamed with oil. Each stocking was held up by two garter clips, one in front, and one in back. He often had to refasten these. He wore white, lace top stockings on his long, slim legs. He wore modestly high heeled sandals that were difficult for him to walk in.

He gripped the purse tightly, and walked down the hall toward the elevator.

As he walked, he felt so slippery and chilly between his ass cheeks, and could hear a faint slippery sound coming from the excess Vaseline. He heard voices in the adjacent apartments. This was a trendy building, close to the bars and discos, so mostly young people lived here. He opted for the stairs rather than the elevator, as he could hear a group of happy people returning from a party loudly entering an elevator below.

It must have been 1:00 am. The road was bright and busy with young beautiful people coming and going from discos and bars. He hurried through the parking lot toward his car. People who saw him pointed him out to their companions, and they stopped and watched him and commented in English and Chinese. His cock was so hard, and he kept it covered with the purse and the laminated A4. He got into the car, flashing his glistening and gooey ass to the world for the instant it took him to jump in. He heard a shriek of happy outrage from a sexy Chinese lady as he shut the door and started the car.

He drove to just past the door of Master's building, and parked and waited on the side of the road. He realized that he was shivering, and he turned on the heat. His ass was slippery on the leather seat. The windows were tinted, so no could see him clearly. Occasionally, though, someone's eyes widened and they turned their heads as they passed, but no one stopped. He heard Cindy's rich voice as she and Master approached from behind, and he unlocked the doors. They got into the back seat.

"Drive to Workers' Stadium," Master commanded.

While he drove they flirted, and gossiped about people he didn't know. Cindy's strange, rich yet high voice was music to his ears. Cindy discussed the issues at slave's business, and Master gave advice. She spoke to Master about the business in the way she used to speak to slave when slave was still her boss, before he became her slave. They discussed how to get where they were going. Master said: "Cindy, would you call Liu and tell him we are coming." Cindy spoke in Chinese to Liu. They mostly exchanged small talk, but then Cindy answered a few questions in the affirmative, and slave guessed Liu was asking about him. Cindy said "Yi huir jian" -- see you in a moment -- to Liu, and Master told slave to pull over and park.

Master said: "Give me the car key." Slave handed him the key. "You go on ahead now up to Liu's apartment. We're going to get something to drink and follow you up. Cindy, would you please tell him how to get there."

He was caught by Cindy's grinning eyes in the rear view mirror. "Go to the big building there. Take the elevator to the 13th floor. Go to 136," she said.

Slave was nervous, and he hesitated. These streets were busy with party goers, mostly Chinese. There were three big discos on this road.

"Zou" – go -- Cindy commanded with rude humor in Chinese.

Slave took up the pink purse and the laminated A4. He got out of the car, and people stopped and laughed at him, and stood pointing at him and joking about him. He kept his eyes down at the level of the young, sexy legs, and hurried on as best he could in his moderately high heeled sandals. He heard comments about his ass in Chinese. Even though his cock had shrunk to nothing he did not choose to let go of the purse and the laminated A4 and reach back to pull down his skirt as it crept up over his cheeks. He knew the effort would be futile, and that the skirt would continue to ride up above the crease of his oiled ass. He hurried on and turned into the building. No one was in the elevator, and he realized that he was shivering as he waited for it to reach the 13th floor.

He went to 136 and knocked, and then stepped back to stand against the wall opposite the door. He heard "Wei, wei?" -- hello -- and he could tell he was being looked at through the peephole. He worried that Cindy had tricked him, and sent him to a random apartment. Another voice joined the first at the other side of the door, asking "Xiu" -- who is it? Slave didn't know whether or not he should turn and flee. There was laughter as this second eye observed slave through the peephole. The door opened and two young Chinese guys stood facing him, one asking who he was and what he wanted in rough Chinese. A Chinese girl appeared between the two guys, and stood looking at slave in a puzzled and bemused way. She was small and very pretty, and she seemed spoiled and cruel. Slave tried to explain "I am Brian's slave. Cindy told me to come here," but none of the three Chinese seemed to understand a word.

"Lai ba!" someone roared heartily from within. The girl, thinking slave could not understand, said "come in," and stepped out of the way. The two boys stepped out of the way, but continued to discuss him in astonished tones.

Mr Liu and Laura's boyfriend, Steve, sat at a table drinking Chivas and green tea, playing a Chinese drinking game with dice. Another Chinese girl, the manager of Luga's Villa, sat at the table, playing dice and drinking with them.

"Halloo!" Mr Liu called out warmly to slave, raising a hand in salute over his head. Everyone laughed at Liu's humor.

"Hello sir," slave said, standing meekly in the center of the room, holding for dear life to his pink purse and the laminated A4. Mr. Liu began explaining to the Chinese who slave was, to the accompaniment of a lot of "Aiyo"s, "waah"s and questions from the boys and the small pretty girl. The tall glamorous manager at the table did not even look at slave. Liu answered the questions patiently while slave stood waiting.

Steve came and stood in front of slave, grinning. Slave minded his manners, and looked Steve straight in the eye. Steve asked: "So, are you looking forward to your big night?"

"Yes sir," slave answered meekly. Slave was very nervous, and he knew he had to be careful with Steve, as Steve could be merciless.

"Let me take that for you, princess," Steve said, slipping the pink purse from slave's grip. The young Chinese watched while still attending to Liu's narrative. Steve put the purse on a counter, and said "Come over here to wait for your guests." He put a chair in the center of the room. "Put one foot up on the chair," Steve said.

Slave said "Yes sir," and curtsied. As he lifted his leg to put one foot one the chair, he could feel his asshole exposed to the air, and the skirt rode up so that the lower half of his ass cheeks were bare.

"Hold the sign up nicely, just under your chin." Slave complied. The three young Chinese had gathered around him. "Smile," Steve said. Slave fixed a smile on his face.

The three Chinese tried to read the laminated A4. "Please. . . Fuck. . . My. . . Ass." The girl corrected the boys' pronunciation. One of the boys asked "shenma yisi," – what does it mean -- in Chinese. Liu translated for them all loudly. There were "waah"s and "aiyo"s. They all went and sat at the table near where Liu drank, and ignored slave. His cock and balls felt so heavy as they drooped just below the level of the skirt, and his Vaseline covered asshole felt cool, opened to the room as it was.

Steve called over from where he played dice with Liu and the tall, glamorous manager: "Don't stop smiling," and slave reaffixed the smile to his face. The Chinese all laughed, and cursed him gaily.

The door rapped behind his back. One of the Chinese guys went to get it. He could hear Cindy and Master entering behind him, greeting those present in Chinese. His cock began to grow in response the music of Cindy's strange, rich voice. He did not look behind him to see Cindy and Master, but maintained his pose, with one leg up on the chair like Tina Turner, and his smile.

Slave could not see Cindy and Master for a few minutes, until they approached Liu's table. They stared with shocked and amused expressions at the way he held up the A4, his smile, and the way he stood so sluttily, with one leg up on a chair.

"That was you set him up that way!" Master said to Steve. Steve shrugged and raised his hands innocently. Cindy smiled at Steve. Master gave Steve a congratulatory slap on the shoulder, and shared a smile with Cindy. Now that slave could see Cindy, his cock quickly grew fully erect. He felt that Cindy was so much more real, so much more present, than all these others. He caught her eye for an instant and, without removing his smile, attempted to communicate to her both his love for her and his sorrow. She held his eyes for a second, just long enough to communicate her amusement and her contempt.