Mrs. Wainwright and her Successors

Aberlynne knelt in the bare room, trying to maintain her posture. Cypress had warned her to stay still. It was difficult spending almost all her time in here.

Aberlynne loved to read and listen to music and socialize, but Cypress had decreed that Aberlynne needed to spend more time by herself, meditating on what it meant to be a slave.

Now and then, someone would come in from downstairs, and ask for a blowjob, or some cunnilingus. Twice men had come in and insisted that Aberlynne allow them to pee in her mouth.

So lonely. Listening to the laughter downstairs. Cypress was having a party.

In my own house, she thought bitterly.

Still, she was so horny, thinking about it. About being forced to spend all this time in the bare, spare room. A room that had been used for sewing, back when she was a model.

Not that Aberlynne had ever come in this room much, the seamstresses had worked in here.

Aberlynne had a huge master bedroom, with an adjoining bath and bubbling hot tub.

But now Cypress used the room and the tub, and when Aberlynne needed cleaning, Cypress would take her into the back yard and hose her off, or in the bitterly cold winter, down cellar.

The door opened and a fat faced catering waiter looked in. "I saw you earlier. You have great tits. The lady downstairs said I could come up and touch them."

Oh, how disgusting he was. But Aberlynne stood up and jutted her breasts out, using the perfect posture that had been trained into her.

The geeky waiter came over and toyed with her beautiful breasts, touching and then sucking the russet colored nipples.

He then reached down and ran his sweaty hand along her clit, and then unzipped his pants, and Aberlynne dropped to her knees to do her duty.

Of course he hadn't bathed in a while. And this was the catering service that Cypress had hired?

After the grotesque nerd had cum in Aberlynne's mouth and all over her face, he left, and Aberlynne knelt, weeping slightly, and desperately wanting to touch herself.

You asked for this, Aberlynne told herself. You advertised for a dominant w ho you would be willing to pay, and Cypress answered the ad.

And what a bitch Cypress was!

Cold beautiful blue eyes, and long lashes, how they could accuse Aberlynne!

Cypress had cropped blonde hair, so light it was almost white, and full lips that she kept ruby red, ever scornful. Aberlynne had wondered in Cypress would even take the job.

"I just need someone to regulate me." Aberlynne had begged, apologetically.

"I had a husband and he was my dominant, but I encouraged him to find a girlfriend since I had that cuckquean fantasy."

Yes, the idea of having your beloved husband cheat on you right in your face and then having the girlfriend treat you like a damn dog.

This had gone really well until Adam fell in love with the abusive slut, and they'd run off together.

After this, Aberlynne had hired Miss Wainwright, a slim old maid who had taught Aberlynne in Sunday school.

Aberlynne knew that Mrs. W. had another side to her, as she'd seen the old bag at the Paincafe, which was Buttermilk Falls's famous hotel and restaurant with a BDSM theme.

Mrs. W. had been sitting at dinner with an elderly burgher and she'd been flicking sparks from her cigarette in its long stemmed holder right in his face as he tried to eat his split pea soup.

Aberlynne had almost run to the bathroom to masturbate over this image.

Then, Aberlynne had spotted Mrs. W. at a bondage munch and that's where she approached her. Mrs. Wainwright was living on a tiny pension from being an organist at St. Seamus's Baptist Tabernacle, and she welcomed the chance for free rent and a little spending cash.

After all, it wasn't like the elderly lady was going to have to cook or do housework.

Mrs. W had timed Aberlynne's trips home from work and caned her severely if she was more than three minutes late!

Sometimes Aberlynne would protest that she had a board meeting or some such nonsense and then Mrs. W. would make the poor executive eat soap flakes for mouthing off.

"My last sub had an actually important job, managing a sunglasses store in the mall, and even with all those customers, he was always home on time." the old bitch said acerbically. "I expect the same from you, you little shit."

And then Aberlynne would be forced to scrub floors and clean her big house with Mrs. W. standing over her with the ever present blackthorn cane. Aberlynne spend many nights tonguing the nasty spinster's gray muffed twat.

But Mrs. W. had finally moved to Nebraska to take care of her ailing mother, and Aberlynne was at odds again. Sure it was fun to be able to come and go as you please, to watch "the Lifetime Channel" lazily and go on dates where men would spoil you.

Men worshipped Aberlynne, and that could be fun, even for a natural slave girl.

Aberlynne really wasn't comfortable with all that freedom.

She found that when she didn't have an "abstinence clip" a creation of Mrs. Wainwrights locked on her clitoris, Aberlynne frigged herself day and night, sometimes diddling in the office where her secretary and the word processors giggled, listening to the boss' s moans.

Mrs. Wainwright had been able to regulate this little problem nicely. She had assigned points for various positive activities like cleaning the house and exercise, and submitting to regular enemas and strap-on pounding.

If Aberlynne could make a hundred points in a month, she got to remove the abstinence clip and go to town, but she could also lose points for mouthing off, or leaving a dish in the living room.

Mrs. Wainwright had also given Aberlynne points for what she called "charity mouth"

Mrs. W's somewhat mentally disabled nephew would visit, and Mrs. W. felt that Kasper should get oral attention now and then from such a pretty girl.

Aberlynne felt she was nice enough to the mentally disabled, hugging them after they'd run in the Special Olympics events.

Aberlynne had even gotten Kasper a job as a credit analyst in her ex-boyfriend's gun company, which any moron could do.

But giving head was a true morale builder, and Aberlynne continued to service Kasper now and then, even after Mrs. W. left town.

It was truly repugnant humiliation, sucking off a pathetic retard. But it enthralled her at all the degradation.

After all, Aberlynne was brilliant and a competitive athlete, and had been told how great she was all her life. Aberlynne was beautiful and had been a model and Paris and Milan.

So kissing Kasper's dick and licking Mrs. W's boots had probably done her ego a little good, snapping it down to size.

The downside of all this was, Aberlynne had never been terribly attracted to Mrs. Wainwright, or Kasper either.

But Cypress was quite the sex-pot.

In addition to Cypress's pretty short bob and the ivory skin, she had gorgeous, cantaloupe sized breasts that she forbade Aberlynne form touching.

If Aberlynne looked at them too long, her mouth watering, Cypress would slap her face harshly.

Would Aberlynne do anything for Cypress?

Suddenly Aberlynne's door opened and Cypress stalked in, in her cute little sundress that Aberlynne had bought her from Betsy Johnson.

The entire party followed, all crowding into the small room.

As they were all clothed, and Aberlynne was very naked, she felt humiliated by this...

But very, very aroused at the same time, and she'd do anything for Cypress.

"We think you are too into your strawberry blonde curls, Aberlynne, and we want to shave your head."

Aberlynne looked alarmed.

"We can get you a wig to wear to work, but otherwise, you can't leave the house until it grows back."

Her hair was her pride and joy.

"We can donate the hair to cancer patients. You want to help others, right?"

Cypress laughed as she said this, and the other partiers did too. Even the catering staff had come in.

Aberlynne breathed in, and bit her lip.

"I think the scissors and the electric razor are in your bathroom, Mistress Cypress. I'll go get them now!"