Heiress Humbled 01

Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of fictional rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, consensually non-consensual (CNC), or non-consensual sex or scenarios.

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I blame Daddy. It was all his fault. Why'd he marry that bitch? Silly question. Why do older men marry blondes with big tits and tight asses? I was Daddy's little Princess, always had been. We're fourth generation rich, and Daddy was always generous to his only daughter. Then the bitch turned up. Started insisting that I behave "normally," stay within my allowance - as fucking if.

So, when my cards were maxed and I needed to settle a bill, I signed Daddy's signature on a cheque and she hit the roof, insisted I needed teaching a lesson. Cutting a long story short, I had to see a probation officer and do some community service. If I did that there would be no criminal charge and it would go away. Fuck that. Except I had to; there was no choice.

That was how I found myself in the Probation Office. I looked around the filthy excuse for an office. I doubted it had been properly cleaned in my lifetime; it was lovely vintage 1970s, complete with lime green plastic chairs that made me concerned to sit, lest I catch something.

"Should have worn jeans," I thought, "or better yet, a rubber suit." I glanced at myself in a window so grimy that I could see myself clearer than the very questionable vie from it.

My dress was loose so that my breasts were hidden well enough; they aren't large but certainly got the attention I desired when I wanted them on show. I was not trying to hide my assets, but I didn't want them to be the object of desire with this crowd. My only below-the-knee skirt was cut a bit tight as I like them. My legs are my best feature anyway, followed closely by my bottom, but I hoped that if I needed a little help with these cretins, they would give me the assistance I needed. But looking around, I was not sure that I might have been better served in a chador. At (five, five, my legs are not long, but I work pretty hard on them and don't mind showing them off when it gets me what I want; but it was wasted here. I was dressed to show that I did belong in a place like this. I noticed the losers in the office sitting up. I went to the desk and told them who I was.

"Ashley de Witt, I have an appointment at three."

"Sure, doll take a seat we'll call ya when he's ready."

"I am not your 'doll,' and I want to see him at three as arranged."

The man looked at me, smirking.

"Oh, sorry your highness - wait your turn!"

Fuck, these people!

Fuming I sat down.

"Hey Princess, it's the way it is, suck it up."

"Who the fuck are you to talk to me?" I said, looking at a black woman who looked as though her body was going to squeeze itself out of the cheap chain store dress she was almost wearing.

"I'm Talia, Princess, who's you?"

"Never you mind," I said, fuming at her rudeness. I gave her the death stare I give those who annoy me, but the insolent bitch just stared back, grinning. In the end I stopped looking. Where the fuck was the Probation Officer?

Talia kept looking at me, eyeing me up. I began to think I really should have dressed down. Did she not know who I was? My outfit screamed that I did not belong in this tawdry place. Talia was still grinning when I was finally called in to see the Probation Officer. At least he was suitably apologetic.

"Look, Miss de Witt, I know that you don't belong here, and I want to make this as easy as I can. The problem is that the judge ruled that you need to be taught a lesson and has insisted that you do your sixty hours community service in the women's prison to give you a glimpse of what will happen if you break the law again. I can, however, put you on waitress service rather than latrine cleaning or something awful like that."

Like I cared! But the guy was deferential, and it made sense, better something like that, I guessed.

"So I go there for a month, wait tables and I am done?"

"Yes, Miss de Witt. All you have to do it is to wait tables."

"Okay, sign me up."

"Thank you, Miss de Witt, and I will, of course, write in my report that you were full of repentance and wanted to help recidivists."

I thanked him - loser.

Well, I thought, this isn't as bad as I'd feared.

"Hey Princess, lemme buy you a drink!"

It was the annoying Talia.

"Why don't you go away? Today has been bad enough."

"Hey Princess, how's a drink with me gonna make it worse? What'd they give ya?"

"Work in the women's prison kitchen."

"Hey, girl, me too, I'm flipping the burgers. You doin' the tables? Hey, you got some clout - that's the cushiest number there is."

"I do," I smiled.

"Well Princess, come on, we gonna be working together - lemme buy you a drink."

She was persistent. I guessed it could do no harm to have someone who worked there on my side, and I did need a drink, so agreed.

"Yo, Princess, you cool!"

It was not a part of town I knew. I texted daddy's driver and told him to pick me up in an hour's time, so I had time to kill.

We went into the pub across the road. I'd never been in such an awful dive. It was full of common people, many of them like Talia, whom they clearly knew. I could feel their eyes on me. I felt a little uneasy.

"Don't worry none Princess, you with me, no one's gonna harm ya."

In a weird way I felt grateful.

"I'm a guessing you're a wine sort of girl?"

"Right," I said.

"Hey, George, a glass of white for the white Princess, and I'll have a pint of the usual."

I was taken aback. She had not even shown me the wine list, so when the glass turned up, I had no idea what it was.

"Cheers, Princess, here's to working together."

"Cheers," I said, before almost puking on the crap I'd just been served.

"I like that dress, Princess, shows off your legs good. I'm a legs kind of gal."

Oh my God, I thought, she's flirting with me. As if!

As I saw her black hand on my thigh, I knew what I was going to say to her, but somehow the words did not form. She squeezed my thigh, and still the words refused to form. I put my hand there to stop her going further. What did she think I was?

"We gonna work well together, Princess. I been there before, I'll bring you the right outfit for Friday, you okay with that?"

I couldn't see her hand anymore, it had somehow got past my hand and disappeared up my skirt.

"Yes, yes," I said, in a distracted way. "No one said about a uniform."

"Well," she said, his hand brushing against my pantyhose, "it's unofficial, but all the girls wear them, and you don't wanna stand out, do you Princess."

"No," I whimpered a little as her finger grazed my mound.

"Good," she said, pulling her hand away. "I got your back, Princess, no harm's gonna come to you if you with me."

A little weakly, I thanked her.

Then my phone pinged.

"That's my lift," I said, "see you Friday."

"Sure Princess, gimme your number."

I did.

As I walked to the car, I was uneasily away that my panties were wet. What was up with me?

"Miss de Witt, let me open the door," said Bert, daddy's driver. "Are you okay? You look a bit distracted."

"I am fine, Bert," I said with less vigour than usual.

As I sat in the back, I was aware of how wet I was.

Had I really given that woman my number? I must have. But why was she sending me pics of her boobs?

The pics were impressive as much as I hated admitting it. A horrible cliché I suppose, but that girl had tits to die for. I felt myself itch.

My phone pinged again

'Show me your tits' was her next text. "As if" my voice responded even as my right hand lifted the hem up to my chin and my left took the selfie, complete with my smiling face.

"U like?"

Oh really, who did that?

Had I really said "yes" to it?

I must have as I got a reply.

"Show me your tits."

No fucking way. Guys were always wanting pics, and I took a delight in never letting them have them. So why on earth did I lift my sweater, take a shot of my small tits, and send them to Talia? It made no sense. Nor did lying there and masturbating to photos of her tits. But fuck, I came so hard.

For the rest of the week I tried to be good. Daddy was pleased that I'd "taken my punishment," and restored my allowance, which was great. I worked hard, tried not to look on my phone during the day, and then, when I got home, I'd dash to my room, see what Talia had sent me and masturbate.

"How's my little gooner?" She texted.

I looked it up. How dare she? How dare she imply I was the sort of girl who got herself off on porn? I was only doing it to pics of her big tits. That was normal. So why did I text back:

"She's good, so wet 4u."

"You my lil gooner, Princess? Tell me."

"I am your lil gooner," I texted back.

Then Friday came.

I dressed down. Bert drove me to the prison, promising to pick me up if I texted when.

I looked round.

I went to the door, rang the bell, and was let in.

Learning from my last experience, I had dressed down, jeans and a sweatshirt, nothing too expensive. I showed the woman my card.

"Ok, you need to go second left and the officers will see you."

She looked at me as though I was some criminal.

As I reached the desk, a female officer, who looked more like a man than some men I'd seen, gave me an appraising look.

"You de Witt?"

"I am," I admitted.

"Okay, go through there, two officers will make sure you're clean, and you can get into the uniform Talia brought for you."

With that she dismissed me as though I was some servant.

I went through into the inner office, where two women in uniforms were waiting.

"You de Witt?"

"I am," I said, wanting them to defer to me.

"Your daddy that rich guy married that bimbo?"

"Yes."

"Wow," said the blonde one, "never thought we'd have someone like you here."

I did not like the grin on her face.

"Ok, de Witt, before you can be allowed in, we got to check you're not carrying drugs. Strip!"

Oh. My. God! I thought. They expected me, Ashley de Witt, to strip off in front of them. What were they, fucking lesbian bitches wanting to get off on me?"

"Strip, de Witt. You don't want to be breaking the terms of your probation. Get your kit off, now!"

I had no choice.

Reluctantly I took my sweatshirt off, showing my white lacy bra and 32B boobs.

"Nice tits, hasn't she, Angie?"

"Bit small for my tastes, Beth, but I know you like 'em small."

My God, they were discussing my breasts as though I was not there!

"Get on with it, de Witt!"

Nervously, I unzipped my jeans and eased out of them, standing in just my expensive lace panties and bra.

"Nice ass, don't you think, Angie?"

"Looks that way, Beth. Get 'em off de Witt."

Oh God. I could not believe this. That bitch of a stepmother, this was all her bloody fault.

I undid my bra and pulled my panties down, my perky boobs on show, along with my neat landing strip.

"Yum, yum," said Beth, the taller and bulkier of the two women.

"Ok, de Witt," said Angie, "we got to inspect see you got no contraband. Open your mouth."

Blushing furiously, I opened my mouth, and Angie, standing close enough for her tits to be touching mine through her uniform, thrust her fingers into my mouth, almost making me gag.

"She's clean," she said to Beth who, to my horror, was putting on latex gloves.

"This is the fun bit, de Witt, for us anyway. You know the three places women smuggling drugs into prison hide them?"

"No," I said, with the horrible feeling dawning on me that I was about to find out.

"Underboob, cunt and asshole, we got a duty to inspect those place."

I felt faint. These common women were going to assault me, and there was nothing I could do about it. Worse still, I was uneasily conscious that my pussy was rather moist.

"Hold those tits up, de Witt."

I gripped my breasts and pulled, not that I had much in the way of underboob.

"Angie, give them a squeeze, I'm guessing they are real at that size, but check."

"Hands down, de Witt."

My nipples were embarrassingly hard, and ached as Angie's hands roamed over them. She gave my nipples a pinch.

"All natural Beth. Now, de Witt, open your legs and bend over the desk."

This was ridiculous, but what choice did I have. I bent over the desk, and felt hands on my ass. Then there was a smack. I started.

"Wider, spread your asshole for us, de Witt."

Blushing furiously, I spread my asshole open.

I felt something cold and shivered, and then to my horror, I felt a latex clad finger pressing into my asshole. I gasped as she pressed in and twisted there.

"Tight arsed bitch," Angie joked, "nuthin up here." So saying, she gave one last push, which made me moan. "Like that bitch?"

"No," I said, emphatically.

"We'll see about that," said Beth, flexing her latex clad fingers.

I felt her fingers slide along my pussy from behind.

"What would you say, Angie, looks like the posh bitch is getting off on this."

"Yummy, she tastes good. Best check inside her."

I squealed as I felt her fingers enter my tight pussy. God, I was wet, what was wrong with me. Her fingers slid in and out, making me moan."

"I think we can say the rich bitch is getting off on this, Angie."

"Stand up," said Beth.

I stood up, blushing.

"What is this?" She said, showing me two fingers glistening with my juices.

"M, my pussy!"

"So, bitch, you are getting off on this, you pervert?"

"No, no," I said.

"Your cunt says otherwise," Angie grinned at Beth.

Beth threw an outfit at me.

"Get dressed de Witt, we'll keep your posh gear here."

I was so keen to hide my nudity from the two butch bitches that I just grabbed, only noticing as I slid the panties on that they were cheap nylon ones. I would not, usually, have been seen dead in such underwear, but as the alternative was to stay naked, I pulled them up fast, feeling the gusset wet immediately. I put on the cheap nylon bra, which did not even match, and then a cheap tee-shirt and a short skirt. God, I thought, my panties were almost visible. I had better be careful.

"Put these socks and trainers on," Angie said.

They were cheap and grubby, but unless I wanted to go barefoot, I had no choice, so I did.

"Use this to tie your hair back, de Witt," Beth said, gripping my hair herself and putting some cheap scrunchie on to tie it back, high on my head.

I looked at myself in horror in the mirror. With my hair like that, in those clothes, I looked like some chav slut.

"Go through, de Witt, see you soon."

I went through the door, only to be greeted by a grinning Talia.

"Hey Princess, those lezzers give you a good feeling up."

"Oh God," I said, thankful for a friendly face, "they did. Are they allowed to do that?"

"Let me have a word with them Princess, I might be able to arrange an alternative."

"Could you?"

"Sure, you be nice to me Princess and you'll be fine, if you know what I mean."

The grin she gave me made me feel uneasy.

I looked round, we were all dressed the same way. I guess at least I did not stand out.

"Look, bitches," Talia said, "this one," she said, hands on my shoulders, "is mine, so no messing with her, if you do, you'll have me to deal with, got it?"

To a woman they said:

"Yes Miss."

On the minus side, Talia was going to want something for protecting me, on the plus side, she really seemed to be able to protect me. Well, whatever it was she wanted, it had to be better than getting finger fucked by those bitches.

That feeling became even stronger as I waitressed.

The idea that I, a de Witt, should waitress anywhere was ridiculous, but this place was plain scary. Some of the women eyed me up, and I could tell that some of them wanted me. These were low life scum, women I'd never meet in the ordinary course of events, the idea of waitressing to them was bad enough, but the reality of their hands on my ass and pinching it was even worse. I looked over at Talia, who beckoned me in her direction.

"Whassup Princess, they pinching your juicy lil white ass?"

"Yes, and I don't like it," I declared.

"Hey girl, some of these chicks are real bad bitches, so count yourself lucky it's just your ass."

"I thought you could protect me?" I said, sarcastically.

"I am, Princess, otherwise they'd have more than yo ass."

That made me shiver. I looked at Talia:

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it Princess, yo can thank me after."

After a while I got used to it. It wasn't hard, and if I moved fast enough, I could protect my ass.

At the end of the shift we all went back to the staff room.

I desperately needed the bathroom, and asked one of the other girls where it was.

"Talia will tell you," she said, sulkily.

"Hey, Princess, follow me," said Talia, picking up on my enquiry.

I followed her down the corridor to an unsavoury public bathroom. It stank.

"Yo go there Princess, but leave the door open."

"But ..." I began.

Talia gave me a look which indicated that she was not in any mood to be contradicted, so I sighed, went into the stall, lowered my nasty cheap panties, and peed.

"Yeah," she grinned, "it's true, you rich folks piss just like the rest of us. Yo got a pretty pussy, Princess."

Oh hell, I thought. Was this never ending? I'd been fingered in my ass and pussy, felt up, had my ass pinched and was now peeing in front of this big black girl.

"Fair's fair, Princess, let me pee."

I got up, pulled my panties up and came out.

She was a big girl, I thought, as I saw her ample tummy and hips as she pulled her skimpy panties down and peed. I saw that she was a hairy girl down there. She smirked.

"Like my jungle, Princess?"

"Yes, Talia," I said, knowing I had to please her.

"Good girl, you can clean me off now."

With that she got up and positioned herself on the baby-changing table, legs apart.

Did she really expect me, the de Witt heiress to get on my knees in this filthy place and lick her pissy pussy. The way she grabbed my hair, pushed me to my knees and pressed me into her hairy pussy, convinced me that the answer was that she did.

The taste made me retch. It was not just the taste of her pee; goodness knows when she'd washed it last.

I'd licked a few pussies, just as I'd blown a few cocks, but that was back at my private school, rich girls, and boys like me, not some skanky black whore. But I thought needs must.

The hairs rubbed my face, but I kept at it, sliding my tongue up and down. Her clit was the biggest I'd ever seen, and I could take it between my lips and suck it; so I did.

"That's it Princess, suck my clit, do it, do, yes, bite the fucker!"

So I did, simultaneously sliding three fingers into her wet tunnel, pushing her walls apart and fucking her hard and fast.

"Oh fuck, yes, yes you fucker, yes, do it girl, fuck me hard, I wanna cum on your pretty white face rich girl."

The way she pressed against me had already told me that, and when she gripped my head and squirted all over me, I thought 'mission accomplished.' But she kept at it, and it was only two orgasms later that she stopped, pulling me up.

"Hey girl, yo the best cunt muncher I had, yo okay, I'll keep ya safe."

My face red and wet, my uniform stained, I could only nod.

"Thanks Talia."

"Now wash yo face and get dressed."

I did.

Beth and Angie gave me my clothes back, smiling.

"You stink of Talia, you her bitch now, rich girl?"

I supposed I was.

As I texted Bert, Daddy's driver, all I could do was to wonder how the hell I could get out of this - and ache to scratch the itch between my legs.