I Listened

I ran my gaze over the kitchen, checking every inch for something amiss. Satisfied with my work, knowing Mistress would be proud, I sighed with relief. Feeling the 50's housewife style dress swirl around me, pink with polka dots and a tight waist, I let myself giggle for a moment, admiring the outfit chosen for my chores. Pink heels and tan stockings encased my legs and feet, the taut straps a constant reminder, making my caged little clit leak with excitement into my panties.

Mistress had sent me downstairs with a list of chores as she retired with her husband to the bedroom. I pouted being left out, always enjoying when I was allowed to participate in their love life. Used as their good girl in whatever way they saw fit. But pleasing my Mistress came above all else, that need for her approval, her praise, driving me each time I served her. Nothing made me giggle and smile as she ran her hand over my cheek or through my hair, informing me I was her good little sissy.

Hearing a bell from a different part of the house, I burned with shame. I hated that bell! Mistress got it as a joke one day to summon me, a gag gift she had thoroughly enjoyed. After seeing how much it made me blush however, it became a regular occurrence. It always enforced just how much I was under her control, answering to such a silly beck and call.

Mincing quickly out of the kitchen so she didn't ring it twice, I hurried down the hall. My heels echoing off the walls as I quickened my pace. As I opened the door, another bell went off, my face immediately burning red. Mistress smiled, timing it perfectly for when I had stepped in the room. She enjoyed seeing my humiliated face, and knew all my secrets. Knew exactly how to make her good girl blush on command.

I stood at the end of the bed and curtsied, awaiting the commands that I was "summoned" for. Mistress and her husband just laid there, ignoring me. Entwined, naked, and laughing, the two of them just stared, enjoying my red face, and my nervous hands. Chatting away, I was left, looking down, waiting to be told what to do. I played with the hem of my dress, being patient through her teasing. She knew when I was ignored this way it made my clitty pulse, made me so eager to please her.

Finally I was beckoned to the bed, climbing up to Mistress' husband. I was directed to his flaccid cock, and told to excite him. Eager to finally have direction, I took him in my mouth. Placing his beautiful cock all the way down my throat, I ran my tongue over his balls, eliciting a moan. Another blush covered my face, a sense of pride flushing over me, Mistress calling me her good little cocksucker.

As I focused on his cock, I could hear Mistress begin to moan and purr, her husband beginning to explore her body. I tried to look, but his cock began to grow in my throat and I had to be attentive. As he reached full length, I tried very hard to keep all of him inside my mouth, but failed. Mistress was very lucky.

When he was fully erect, I was told to stop. Pouting, I removed his beautiful cock from my mouth, wanting to taste his cum. Mistress handed me a piece of blank paper, with no markings of any kind. Confused, I looked at her. When she told me what to do with it I was horrified, and began to whimper and whine. Her glare stole any arguments I had though, as I slid off the bed to be a good girl.

Moving to the wall at the side of the bed, I placed the paper at eye level. Embarrassed, ashamed, and unbelievably horny, I pressed my nose on the paper. Hands behind my back, I stood. My clitty was on fire in its little cage as I was left there, completely and utterly humiliated. I whimpered as I heard her first moan.

My ears perked up, like a puppy hearing a bag of treats. All I could do was listen as Mistress began to moan in between the thrusts inside of her. I wanted to look. I wanted to look more than anything in the world. I wanted to lick her clit as she was fucked. I wanted to be beside her, so she could torment me as she was pleasured. Anything. Anything at all other than being forced to listen, nose digging into the paper, trying so hard not to let it fall.

Not remembering the last time I was this horny, this achingly aroused, I listened. Moan after moan, sounds of fucking back and forth. Mistress called out her husbands name, and he responded with grunts. Hearing them switch positions, I knew she was on all fours, that beautiful ass exposed to her lover. Mistress loved to cum on all fours. The strain from being fucked so hard in her voice, she continued her assault on my poor imagination with her moaning. Feeling like I was dying from excitement, I did the only thing I could do.

I listened.

I listened to Mistress cum on his cock.

I listened to her do it again.

I listened to him call her all kinds of names.

I listened to her moan from each one.

And finally, like it was my own orgasm, I listened to her husband cum inside her eager pussy, the relief evident in his voice. Beyond frustrated, my own clit straining so hard in its little cage, so desperate for attention, I listened.

I was left on the wall as they calmed down, snuggling. Finally, my bell of shame was rang once again, and I practically ran to the bed. Mistress was in the arms of her husband, legs spread out, lost in the bliss of her orgasms. Once again I was ignored knowing what was expected. What she required from her sissy, her good girl. My aching clitty driving me eagerness and need, I dove into her well fucked pussy. Licking, sucking, slurping, I was so desperate to taste the orgasm that had been driven inside of her. I was so desperate to be a good girl.

As I felt I got all the cum out of her, I slowed down to gentle licks, which she enjoyed after an orgasm. Slow, even licking, I tried to soothe her used pussy with my tongue. Feeling her hands in my hair, I moaned as she touched me for the first time that evening, taking comfort in that gentle, yet firm touch. Such a simple gesture, barely any pressure from my Mistress, and yet it enthralled me, drove me. I would do anything to feel that touch.

A tug from her hand, my gaze was directed up to her eyes. Mistress saw the eagerness, the excitement, the need, and she smiled. A knowing look spread across her face, knowing she owner her good girl through and through. My caged clit and collar were physical representations of her control, but nothing could compare to that look. That dominant look that held no sway, no doubt. I was her good girl, to do with as she pleased. And Mistress took great pleasure in knowing that.

Handed another piece of paper, I whimpered in fear, relaxing when I realised it was simply a list of chores. Always more chores for a good girl like me. With a smile and a wave of her hand, I was shooed away, sliding off the bed onto my heels. My aching clitty throbbed, still reliving the experience of servicing my Mistress, frustrated I was denied seeing her being fucked. I slowly made my way out of the room, my mind a fog as I closed the door.

As I entered the hall I once again heard that telltale moan from my Mistress. Pouting, a soft whimper escaping me, I knew I should just move on to my duties. Staring down at the list in my hand, my caged clit pulsing with need, that every present ache tearing at my imagination, I couldn't pull myself away. Just for a little bit, a tiny moment of rebellion, I placed my ear on the door. I did exactly as my Mistress knew I would, seeing the shadow of my heels underneath the frame.

Smiling at her desperate little sissy, she moaned her heart out, knowing there was only one thing I could do. One course of action that held me in place, desperately trying not to make a sound.

I listened.