tagBDSMDutiful Pleasures and Displeasures

Dutiful Pleasures and Displeasures

bymummys dirty angel©

"Where is your Mistress?" Reluctant to give him any information I stood there in silence. "Tell me young lady?" Master snapped his long brown leather belt between his hands. The piercing crack sent shivers coursing through me. "It bothers me greatly that you protect her. Just why do you do it?" I swallowed hard between my heavy breaths. A loud snap of the belt close to my ear startled me, causing me to break my silence with a gasp. His fingers grabbed my hair and he roughly turned my head to face him. "Go to the desk, lift your skirt and tuck it into the waistband." He released my hair and I slowly walked to the large sturdy table that sat in the window overlooking the green lawns of the estate. I lifted my skirt and gathered it loosely, tucking it into the waist.

Outside I could see the darkening clouds building behind the green hills in the distance. "Lower your knickers young lady and spread your legs." I fumbled with the thin material of my pure white knickers and shakily edged them down my thighs, over my knees and finally set them down at my ankles. A swipe of the belt cut through the air alongside my head causing my spirally curls to tickle my ear. The end of the belt landed on the desk with a resounding smack. "Now bend over!" I lowered myself across the desk and stretched my arms to the edge.

I cringed as his cold hands rubbed on my bare cheeks. I looked up at the threatening clouds that gathered over the faint hills, now sprinkled with distant rain. "You will stay in this position until I return." His footsteps faded and he slammed the door then turned the key. For him, this time alone for me was so that I could reflect on my silent behaviour. But for me, it was a time to remember just why the silence continues.

I was fifteen years old and worked on my fathers market stall selling coloured silk scarves with shiny coloured sequins adorning them. I had no idea who she was, and being fifteen, did I really care? To me, she was just another one of my father's customers. I remembered staring at her intently as she spoke to him. She smiled continuously as soft words floated from her perfect lips. From that first smile she stirred something in me that I had never felt before. Her sea green eyes twinkled after every blink and when the gentle breeze whispered around her hair in the summer sun you could see red and gold tones in many a strand.

My upbringing was strict and I was only permitted to have friends in school and they were few and far between. As soon as my learning day was over and my chores were completed at home, I retreated to my room and continued with my studies. As I was forbidden to mix with others at weekends I helped my father on the market stall. Each school holiday was the same, everyday on the stall, travelling with him to different towns.

When I returned to school my friends would boast about shopping and parties. I curiously listened when they talked about boys and other riskier subjects. They would talk about the moist forbidden place between their thighs and the way they felt when they touched that cute little button that seemed to explode as they feverishly explored it. They told of how their private regions had got wet, how their breathing changed and how their stomachs felt all light and fluttery when they touched it. These were feelings that I had never experienced before and my own special place had never been touched in a sexual way by anyone, even me.

And back then on that day, standing in front of her, her beauty, her smile and her laughter made my stomach flutter and my special place pulse and throb. That first night I had gone back to my room and found that cute little button. I felt the wetness around my fingers as they skirted around it. I found it swelling and hardening with every touch. Soft mewls turned to excitable whimpers that progressed into moans. Then I felt it, the explosion that my friends had said they felt, coinciding with a blinding flash in my closed eyes. I recovered slowly after that first orgasm, shaking and sweating until it all finally subsided leaving me contented and satisfied.

As the months passed she began to talk to me. She would say 'how are you?' or 'hello'. Each time I talked to her I felt elated that she gave me just a little of her attention and when she walked away my world sank back into its mundane routine. By the time I had turned sixteen I was more comfortable around her. Turning another year older meant a little freedom in the evenings. I was allowed to attend a few parties and go shopping occasionally with my friends. When she stopped and talked to me I could always find something to say about my weekend and what I got up to.

My father began to answer my questions about her, like who she was and where she was from. I felt my heart sink into my stomach when he told me she was married. She never wore a ring on her finger and I assumed that there was no man in her life. Despite me knowing she had a husband it didn't stop me exploring myself. I saved my pleasure for just that one day a month.

On the last day of the market season in our town, I hoped and prayed she would come to me. I was kneeling on the ground trying to find a particular colour of a scarf that a regular customer had requested. I looked up to my father to tell him that the colour wasn't in that batch and there she was, looking directly at me. She held my stare, her emerald eyes burned into me. I attempted to get up from the cold ground and her voice sternly told me to stay. I did as she requested and was rewarded with an expression on her face that I had never seen before. She grinned at me with a look of approval.

Her delicate hand confidently handed me a small ivory coloured card that had an elegantly printed address on it. She told me to be there the following day. She then told me to stand and again gave me that look of approval with a hint of a smile. Again, that night, without fail, I pleasured myself. The following morning as I approached the front door to leave my house, my father called to me. He passed me a small suitcase and told me to give it to the Lady of the Manor. I assumed it contained a bundle of silk scarves that she loved to collect. I kissed my father goodbye and made my way to the address written on the card.

From then on my life and future belonged to her and her husband. I became her personal maid. I undressed and clothed her, bathed and dried her and washed her clothes. I prepared her for evenings out and important functions. They were my pleasures. I knelt when requested and spoke when I had permission to speak. I was also mildly punished by her at times for my mistakes. She sent me to the corner with my knickers at my ankles or she would deny me orgasms when I masturbated.

She of course controlled my orgasms. That was a condition from the first day. I was to only masturbate with her in the room. She would tell me to lie on her bed and she would sit beside me, holding my hand in hers. With my other hand I explored my body, my breasts, my neck, my stomach...everywhere. I was forbidden to speak at those times. She would talk softly to me, telling me how beautiful I was and told me how I pleased her. When my gasps and breaths told her how close I was to my release she would grant me permission to let go and within seconds I would be screaming and writhing on her bed with her hand still holding mine. I treasured those moments and the closeness we shared. I longed for her attention. An occasional touch to my arm or my cheek would stir something so intense and deep within me. If only she knew what I truly felt.

Her husband, or Master as I was told to call him was older than her. He was nice and polite at first, but I soon learnt that he had a dark streak to his nature that she never told me about. He was born into a wealthy family whose generations had spawned men with a roving eye. His infidelities went unnoticed, unlike my Mistress'. Their relationship was different to others'. She had her own bedroom and only slept in the large bedroom with him when he requested it. I found that odd at first, but soon got used to it, especially when she requested me to sleep at the foot of her bed sometimes.

And now, here I am, waiting for another punishment. The creaking of the door interrupts my recollections. The carriage clock on the mantelpiece telling me I'd been alone with my thoughts for nearly forty minutes.

Master walked to me, his hand again rubbing my bottom. "I think I left you alone long enough don't you?" I slowly nodded my head, not wanting to speak to him. His fingers moved lower down the curve of my cheek. He ran them along the crease where my buttock meets my thigh. He traced the outline of my legs, from my inner thigh down to my ankle and all the way back up. I was confused. He'd never done that before. He usually came in and gave me my punishment and then left me to recover. I lowered my head to the desk and tightly closed my eyes. His fingers ran down the crevice between my cheeks and they continued their journey between my thighs. I jumped as they stroked my special place. No one other than myself had touched me there. He tugged on my hair, lifting my head from the desk. His breath fell heavy on my ear. "Does the little maid like that?" I shook my head. "Answer me."

My silence broke. My words stumbled out. "No, no Master... please don't touch me there."

"So its true what my unfaithful wife tells me. You are untouched."

"Yes Master." I sobbed.

He pushed my head onto the desk and removed his hands from my body. I breathed a sigh of relief as he walked away from me. Moments later the loud crack of his belt smacked down hard onto the desk and I sensed in a split second that this punishment was going to be different.

"I hope she appreciates your loyalty young lady." He swung the leather belt and the intense sting cut to my core, ripping over my bottom. I tightly gripped onto the rough edge of the desk causing my knuckles to turn a creamy white shade. Again the belt snapped onto my cheeks, the cracking sound echoing throughout my room alongside my gasps and cries. I sobbed openly, my tears falling one after the other and landing in a puddle beneath me. Another crack of the belt and I screamed, throwing my head back and feeling the desk cut into my fingers. The intense pain of the strike shot across my upper thighs while the tip of the belt curled around my leg and kissed a deadly sting on my soft inner thigh.

I was panting and crying. My legs were shaking and buckling but no way on earth was I going so break my resolve. Again he struck me, across the back of the knees. Higher he went, another stinging crack on my thighs. He was relentless. No sooner had the belt crashed onto my bruised skin he was pulling back for another and another. There was silence for a few seconds, no sound from him or any movement. All I could hear were my sobs and whimpers. Dare I look behind me? I relaxed my sore hands and upturned my palms. They were cut, small indentations with tiny blood veined lines seeped along each one. I still couldn't tell if he was still there. I attempted to lift myself up on my elbows.

A cold chill ran through me as I heard his voice. "Did I tell you to move?" I clenched my bottom as his hands drifted over each welt. His fingers traced over the vicious bruises. "I think you could take a few more for your Mistress' behaviour. She's been very bad lately hasn't she?" I still wouldn't break my loyalty to her, no matter how many swipes of his belt he dealt out to me. My sore fingers tentatively gripped onto the edge of the desk, preparing myself for another assault. I lowered my cheek into the puddle of my salty tears. Seconds passed and, CRACK! I screamed and held the table tighter. The belt caught me on the crease between buttock and thigh. It stung like never before. I arched up, still gripping the desk. Again, CRACK, exactly the same place. The stinging pain was so intense. It burnt. Searing heat wormed its way through my layers, shredding through to reach me inside. I collapsed on the table, breathing hard, gasping and crying.

My legs barely held me up and I was slowly falling. He came up close behind me, pressing up against my tortured body. He pushed my head onto the top of the desk and his hands grasped onto the collar of my blouse. With one almighty rip he tore it away from me, nearly choking me in the process. He growled into my ear. "Are you ready for the final one little maid?" He stepped away from me and I shivered as the cool air lingered over my back. "Hold on for your life young lady!" I regained a little composure and hesitantly clenched my injured hands over the edge. SMACK! The belt landed diagonally over my back. I screamed and held onto the desk. Droplets of blood squeezed out of my clench fists. It oozed from between my fingers and helplessly dropped onto the wooden floor. My breathing was ragged and hard and my legs finally gave out. They couldn't withstand anymore.

In slow motion I slumped to the floor, bruised and battered with a beast of a man looming over me. I was beaten, not just physically, mentally as well. Through stinging and watery eyes I saw him unzip his trousers. They fell to the floor closely followed by his pants. His cock was hard and he began to gently stroke himself. He was standing right over me, looking down on me as if I was nothing. "This is what little maids get when they disobey!" His strokes on his cock became faster and faster, his hips began to ride back and forth. He dropped to his knees and now his cock was by my face. "Open your mouth and keep those eyes open!" I had no resistance to fight back.

The tip of his cock kept tapping my nose and cheek as he masturbated over me. His clenched fist pumped to and fro, banging onto my face. It continuously pounded my cheekbone, it ached and I wondered if it would bruise. I looked up to his face, contorting and straining and getting redder by the second. He began to grunt, louder and louder. With a final jerk of his hips I felt his warm gooey cum spray onto my face. It crept into my nostrils and dripped into my mouth, hitting my taste buds before sliding down my throat. It coated my skin, covered my eyes and dripped from my ears. He casually lifted his pants and trousers and told me to stay. With a swish of his belt cutting through the air in my direction he left my room, leaving the door wide open.

As soon as he left I burst into tears. I gathered my shirt in my cut hands and wiped the semi dry cum off my face. The tears flowed continuously and painfully I rolled into the foetal position. I shook, from the shock, the pain and now the coldness. Time had passed, although for how long I didn't know. My room was sparsely lit and it was dark outside. The light from the dimly lit staircase filtered in and standing in a silhouette in the doorway stood a petite figure.

"Mistress, please..." I sobbed, painfully calling out to her.

She rushed over to me. "My god, what did he do to you?" Before I could answer she had risen and turned on the light. My eyes closed then reopened adjusting to the brightness. "Jesus...why, why did he do this?" Her eyes wandered over my body, the crimson diagonal stripe catching her gaze. Her eyes welled with tears as her fingers peeled away the sticky hair from my face that still had remnants from his cum dried on it. She went to hold my hand and I pulled it back sharply. She grabbed my wrist and told me to show her. I slowly opened my palm. Small rivers of dried blood had settled over numerous small cuts. "We need to get those clean."

"I can't move Mistress, it hurts too much. Please stay here." My voice was full of need and desperation. I wanted her to hold me, wanted to feel those delicate arms around me. It was the only place I felt safe.

"Ok, let me get us some blankets, you're shivering." I nodded my head and she went to the closet and took out numerous blankets. She walked around me and noticed the scarlet strip across the back of my knees. My skirt hid the majority of the purple coloured welts. "Is there more?" Again I nodded and the tears immediately followed. I jumped at her touch as she hesitantly raised my skirt higher and higher. With every inch of revealed skin the bruises got darker and angrier. My knickers sat just below my sore bottom showing the first welts of his assault.

"Did he touch you?" She enquired. In between sobs I mumbled a 'no'. "Are you sure?" Her fingers brushed over my exposed skin and although turmoil and pain consumed me, her touch soothed the hurt away.

"He, he did touch me down there... and I asked him not too. And that's when he started to strap me hard. He's usually not that violent." Her touch stopped and she walked in front of me and crouched down.

"Usually!" She broke down in tears. "How many times? And why?"

I closed my eyes and stuttered. "I, I was protecting you. He knows... about you. Where is he?"

"I don't know, he wasn't here when I got back and his holdall has gone and some of his clothes. He's the least of the worries right now." My Mistress stood and turned the light off before she slipped in beside me under the thick cover of blankets. Her lips touched my forehead followed by my cheek.

"I didn't tell him anything at all. I knew that you would get punished as soon as you returned home. It happens each time he suspects you are out with your lover."

Her fingers graced my stained face, her voice a mere whisper in the faint light. "But why? I don't understand why!" I couldn't tell her. The words were on the tip of my tongue, eager to slip out and ruin this tender moment. "The affair is over now. I told him today and if it wasn't over today, it would have been tomorrow, especially after this."

My heart fluttered at her words. I grimaced as my hand reached up to her face and caressed her damp cheek. "I'm glad you ended it Mistress." My stare held hers intently.

"Me too." She kissed me softly on my lips, just a simple peck, so innocent, so caring... so powerful to me. "You need some sleep, I'll clean you up in the morning." I nodded as another kiss landed on me. Her arm slid underneath my neck and she held me tightly, cradling me into her. Within seconds all was calm in her arms.

I woke up the following morning in only a little pain. My eyes fluttered open to an empty space beside me. Was it a dream? Was she not lying beside me before I went to sleep? I pulled up the blanket and remembered she was here. I touched my lips as I thought of her kiss. My hands were still bruised and blood stained but the pain wasn't as bad.

I looked up to see her standing there, carrying a tray. "Hey sleepy head... you've slept for most of the day. Its four o'clock, it'll be getting dark again soon." She smiled at me, lowering the tray to the floor. She sat down and poured the tea. "This makes a change doesn't it, me serving you?" Smiling back at her, I went to take the cup from her. "Don't worry, let me..." My Mistress lifted the cup to my mouth and tilted it a little until I tasted the familiar beverage. She placed the cup back on the tray and she picked up the teaspoon and smashed it onto the boiled egg. "You know who that was don't you?"

I giggled and said, "yes, but don't take it out on my egg!" She smiled as she peeled the broken shell from the egg. Taking the spoon she dipped it into the yellow centre and I eagerly opened my mouth as the spoon came towards me. Her hand followed as I swallowed the egg and she removed a stray piece of shell from my lip. "I could get accustomed to this Mistress!"

She raised a questioning eyebrow. "Really now... I wouldn't get too accustomed young lady!" She smiled as she said it and fed me a soldier of toast dipped in sunny yellow yolk. "After this we'll get you cleaned up ok?"

"Yes, thank you Mistress." I shifted position, gasping at the pain that shot through my thighs and bottom. "You're gonna have to help me up." I falsely laughed, trying so hard not to cry.

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