The Local Girl Ch. 04

"Okay, then coffee, please," Lucas said, interrupting Amy's thoughts.

Amy turned to Amber and pointed to the other room with her head.

"Pamsi, be a darling and make Lucas a coffee. There is a water heater and instant coffee on one of the shelves. It was the first time Amy used this name.

"Yes, Miss," Amber responded automatically and realized the consequences of the interaction between her and Amy in the presence of Lucas. She rushed to the other room, happy she could escape the tension for a spell.

Lucas noticed it, but he just raised only an eyebrow.

"She calls me Miss, I call her Pamsi," Amy explained, noticing his astonishment. She smiled nicely. "I'm Amy," she said, stretching her hand to him.

"Lucas," he answered, shaking her slender hand gently.

Amber returned and shyly put the coffee cup next to him.

"Black, right?" she asked.

"Yes, black, Pamsi," he said, making Amber blush.

"You must have a thousand questions. But would you like to start with a particular one?" Amy asked.

Lucas ignored Amy's question and glimpsed at Amber. "Are you still my girlfriend, or did I lose you to the beauty here?" He pointed at Amy.

Amber used to be selfish, self-confident, and bitchy at times. But in the presence of Amy, she felt small and insecure. She looked to her Mistress, then to Lucas.

"I am your girlfriend... if you still want. But first of all, I'm my Mistress'..." Amy looked for the right word, "slut," she continued proudly, mustering the rest of her self-confidence.

Lucas considered his girlfriend, turned to Amy, then back to his girlfriend. If he could call her that.

"Could you tell me everything from the beginning. So that I can understand what is being played?" He asked.

"Come on, Pamsi. It's your kinky little game," Amy smiled. "I admit, I thought that all this would come much later, but fate wanted it that way," Amy turned to Amber but then looked back to Lucas. "But let's sit down first. It might take a while."

Amber sat across from Lucas and nervously ran her hands down her bare thighs, feeling his gaze on her. She caught slightly and began to tell.

Eventually, it took her over half an hour to finish the story. She reached back to high school and her first conscious memories of her submissive side and masochistic cravings. Reluctant and insecure at first, she gained courage as the story progressed. Amy listened, interested, and caught the one or another detail she didn't know. For Lucas, the narration was like a journey into a strange, deviant world of which he had only a vague idea. Although he had doubts, Amber had captivated him with her conviction.

The beautiful blonde slut told him about her rigid mother, her much stricter aunt Hellen and how her cravings developed. How she tried to fight her urges, and how she finally gave in. She also told him that, at first, she just wanted him because other pretty girls desired him too. What she didn't tell him were plans to make him break off with her. And Amber was grateful that Amy hadn't brought up the subject either.

"The welts on your bottom," Lucas began, "those aren't from aunt Hellen, are they?"

"I whipped her," answered Amy dryly, "because she was naughty."

Lucas nodded. "And how did she convince you to play along?" He addressed the question to the dark-skinned beauty.

"She showed me her soiled panties and told me how wet she gets thinking about me humiliating and degrading her. And the idea aroused me," Amy explained in a very seductive way. After a moment's thought, she added: "Lucas, there are basically two options. You can break up with Amber and go on with your normal life. Or you can play along and enjoy her. Enjoy our little arrangement. I mean, how often does a man get that opportunity?" She pointed at embarrassed Amber. "She is a beautiful, submissive slut who will crawl at your feet like a bitch in heat if you want her. Please don't tell me you don't like the idea."

Once more, Amber felt a shiver go down her spine and make her pussy gush into her new, fresh panties.

Lucas smirked. "And if I choose the second option, what role should I play?"

A smile tugged at Amy's lips. "What role do you want to play? You now have an idea of what she needs. You can be just her boyfriend, her Master, her Daddy, or you name it. What the stupid little slut needs from you is your cock and a strong hand." Glimpsing to the flushed and embarrassed Amber, Amy continued. "I think she would allow you to make everything because she has a crush on you."

Amber's face reddened even more. She still didn't know what she felt about Lucas. Or was Amy right, and she just closed herself to her feelings? Could she love both Amy and Lucas?

"I see," he said to none in particular. "And what is your part?" The question was addressed to Amy.

"After talking to Pamsi so many times," Amy began, "I don't think she'll even make it through college this semester. She wasn't made for this." Saying this, she beckoned Amber over.

The blond followed and positioned herself next to her Mistress. "Hold your skirt up, Pamsi," she demanded. Amber flushed immediately with shame but followed obediently, revealing her girly, ruffled panties with a princess print. Without hesitation, Amy grabbed the panties' waistband and yanked them down to Amber's thighs.

"Oh my God, Pamsi! We put them on for you a few minutes ago, and they're wet again!" Amy scolded her with mock disgust.

"I'm sorry, Miss," Amber blubbered.

"Spread your legs a little further apart. Don't let the panties fall," the black girl advised, then turned her head to Lucas again.

Amber's knees felt like they were made of cotton. She squirmed with shame, at the same time, felt her pussy starting to drip.

Nevertheless, she noticed Luca's look, full of desire, and enjoyed how his eyes discovered every inch of her naked skin.

"Look at her," Amy said, drawing attention back to herself, and continued talking. "She loves attention and faints with the desire to be touched and played with. She needs to be degraded and shamed. Just imagining it makes her little brain melt into her panties, as you see. She only wears the panties for a few minutes." Still looking into Luca's eyes, the black beauty stretched her hand and pushed two fingers between Amber's pussy lips. She slowly stroked the fingertips over the blonde's clit. Within seconds, Amber moaned and squirmed, quivering with embarrassment and craving. And her Mistress kept playing with her until she was again on the verge of orgasm. Then Amy stopped, leaving her needy and desperate.

"Our little Pamsi is too horny, too desperate, and simply too dumb to be a college student. Not to mention graduation. She has other talents, however." Saying this, Amy pulled her hand back and wiped her wet fingers on the blonde's skirt.

She straightened herself in her seat and elegantly crossed his legs while letting Amber stand in the humiliating pose.

"So, back to your question: What is my role?" she said. "What is my role, Pamsi?" she turned to Amber again.

Redfaced Amber, standing with her private parts on display, felt dizzy with the turmoil of emotions and need. The humiliating situation, where two peers talked about her like an animal, which they negotiated, made her cunt leak.

"I... want you... want... to own me, Miss. I want you to... to humiliate and degrade me and make me... your slutty maid," Amber stuttered, having problems collecting her thoughts and using proper words.

Amy laughed. "You see. You just need to touch and humiliate her a little, and it turns her in no time into a bubbling idiot."

Even if he tried, Lucas couldn't help but get hard watching the bizarre yet arousing show. It surprised him how much power Amy had over his girlfriend. It had surprised him that Amber had more and more perverse desires from day to day, but only now did he understand what was driving her. At least, he thought so.

"I might like it," he said with a smirk.

"Of course you do. There are only two limitations I want you to bear in mind. First, do not make or let her cum. I want her that needy and desperate. I decide if and when she cums, if any. And second, her pussy is mine. Fuck her pretty mouth and her ass. But not her cunt. Can you live with that?"

Lucas was impressed by Amy's confidence and determination.

"Sure, I can do that. However, I also have two conditions," Lucas said.

"Namely?" The ebony beauty asked.

"Since she is willing to become your slut... servant, or whatever it would be, she should be called Pamsi all the time. I really like it. And I mean, even here, on campus." Both girls listened. "And the second. I want the slut to call me Sir, always and everywhere."

"Are you sure?" Amy raised an eyebrow. "Calling her Pamsi won't be a problem. She gets used to it. But calling you Sir or me Miss? That will not go unnoticed. What will you say if someone asks?" Amy pointed at Amber.

"Let's say she lost a bet. And now she has to call me Sir and you Miss for a few months."

Amy contemplated and turned to Amber.

"Did you hear, stupid? You will call him Sir from now on and me Miss. Even at college."

"Yes, Miss." Events went head over heels, but Amber enjoyed it somehow. She now had both Amy and Lucas and didn't have to do without them.

"You are a good girl, Pamsi. You may pull your panties up." Then, turning to Lucas again, she added: "Pamsi will explain everything to you. She knows the rules and knows what I expect. Teach her your expectations. But for now, we have to leave. I am pretty late and have to hurry. I hope you don't mind. In case you have questions, you will find me here, somewhere in the faculty, or in the sex shop if you want to come around."

"But we could also meet in a cafe," he suggested.

"Sure, why not," she answered seductively, picking a pen out of her purse. She grabbed Luca's hand and noted her phone number on his palm. "Just in case," she added.

While Amy was pulling her car from the parking lot towards town to meet Roman, the sex shop owner, Amber, and Lucas left the building and walked to Amber's Mini Cooper.

Neither Lucas nor Amber mentioned the conversation or what happened in Amy's lab. Mostly, Lucas would talk about his day and the project he was working on. But it was way too technical, and Amber didn't understand a word. Even if she wasn't that distracted because of her wet panties and whirling emotions, she just didn't know much about technology.

The sun went down and bathed the square in front of the main building in an orange light. A warm breeze was blowing from the west, so Amber didn't have to wear her light jacket. She held it in her hand. Lucas held her other hand.

Only a few students remained on campus.

"How did you know Sir, where to find me?" Amber wondered, reminding herself to call him as he wanted.

"I met your friends, Julie and... the other," he said.

"I see," Amber answered. Then, after a short contemplation, she asked: "Are you mad at me, Sir?"

"Mad is the wrong Term, I think. I'm a little disappointed you didn't tell me you love someone else. And I still don't know if I can trust you. After all, you fooled me."

"I did not mean that. That is, at first, but later... I want you near me. Yes, I love Amy, but she's right. I fell in love with you too."

"Okay, this is how it will work now. You'll have to gain my trust again. And that's not all. You will always seek my attention and do absolutely anything to get it. And with anything I mean literally crawl like a bitch in heat at my feet, like Amy mentioned. Is it clear, Pamsi?"

"Yes, Sir," Amber answered, feeling butterflies fluttering in her belly. It was the first time he called her that. Okay, he called her also a slut or a whore, but yet he would do it daily and everywhere. It thrilled her how the other students would respond, but it was a pleasant thrill. Maybe, because she was so horny. But how it looked, she would likely stay that way. "Do you want me to crawl right now?"

"I would love that," he said, feeling his cock swell. "But we could have massive problems if someone reports us." Nevertheless, he pushed his hand under her short skirt, showing his fingers into her panty-clad slit."

Amber blinded out everything around her and enjoyed Lucas' kiss and fingers between her thighs. The sexual need constantly smoldering in her flared up like a fire, letting her moan audibly and quiver on wobbling knees. She would let him do anything to her, but Lucas pulled his hand back.

Amber gasped with disappointment.

"We'll continue in your place, slut," he said.

As they reached Amber's car, she fished the car key from her bag and handed it to Lucas.

"Would you please drive, Sir? I feel too... dizzy," she giggled.

Lucas took the key, chuckling. "How long have you been denied yet?"

"I... am not sure... two, three days...," she answered.

"Starting today, I won't let you drive, Pamsi. It would be irresponsible of me to let a dummy, who can't focus on anything drive. Wouldn't it be? You're already too distracted to drive alone. If you need to go somewhere, you'll call me and ask me to drive you," apparently not tolerating any contradiction.

"Yes, Sir," Amber answered meekly. Strangely, being patronized and losing the next one of her privileges made her feel secure.

Once inside the apartment, Lucas walked over to the large patio door, pushed it aside, and let in fresh, warm air. Then he went to the fridge, took a can of Coke, and sat at the table. He took a big sip as he watched Amber exit the bathroom and walk towards him.

As she stood close before him, Amber lifted her skirt and pulled her panties down to her knees. "Would you please spank me, Sir?" She asked with a high-pitched voice.

"Why should I spank you, Pamsi?"

"For... being a shameless slut... I am not allowed to be used on campus, Sir," Amber responded and got hornier with every second she continued talking.

"But I might want to use you there again, under the old stairway. Do I have to punish you also then?"

"Yes, Sir," Amber responded.

"And how do I punish a shameless slut like you?"

"Over your knees, Sir. Like a naughty girl, Sir."

"And it should be a firm spanking, I assume?" Lucas asked, and Amber nodded. "Ask me for it," he demanded.

"Would you please make me cry, Sir?" Amber asked, flushed, scared, and incredibly horny.

"I have no choice, have I?" He said with a stern voice, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. His demeanor made Amber quiver. He was entitled to this role.

"May I close the door, Sir?" Amber asked, pointing to the glass patio door. I mean, because of the neighbors," Amber meekly objected.

"No, Pamsi. Get over my knees. Let them know how naughty you are."

-- The opportunity --

Amy pulled the car into the driveway of the large property, followed the gravel path, illuminated from both sides with small lamps, and finally parked her old Honda Civic in front of the luxurious, large cottage.

It was twilight when she got to the other side of the lake, and the sun had almost completely set behind the horizon.

"Hello, Miss," Camila appeared on the veranda. She was twenty-eight, if Amy remembered well, and was a pretty, slender Latina with big, black eyes and straight, long, jet-black hair. The Latina wasn't a classic beauty, but there was something attractive about her. She wore a short housemaid uniform, but not nearly as short as Amy had imagined for Amber.

"Hallo Camila," Amy returned the greeting.

"Mr. Kinski is waiting for you on the terrace. Can I serve you something to drink?" Camila asked. Her Spanish accent made her sound cute, found Amy.

"Something cold, please," she answered.

Camila was almost as tall as Amy and pretty skinny. A little too thin for Amy's taste. And she was too flat-chested, as the black beauty found. But she had long, slender legs, which looked adorable in her short uniform. The black high-heeled sandals reinforced the impression.

Camila might be mistaken for an innocent lamb, but Amy knew she was anything but that. From what she knew, the Latina was not very much into submission but was a pain slut, as Roman had once explained.

Roman had always hired women who were more than just housekeepers. Most of the time, he would have two or three at a time. And the women did not come to him by accident. They were recruited through relevant advertisements and knew what they got into. Apart from that, Roman wasn't stingy. She knew that.

Amy wondered if Carmen, the other maid, was also there. But she couldn't see her and didn't ask.

She followed the corridor, crossed the stylishly furnished but a little dated living room, and went to the terrace where a magnificent water view awaited her.

Hearing her approaching, Roman got up from his lounger.

"Amy, sweetheart, nice to see you," he hugged her. "It's so good to see you in person again," he added with his rough voice.

Roman was an ex-boxer from Eastern Europe. He was middle-sized, unessential taller than Amy, in his fifties but very handsome for his age and damn good in shape. The Millionaire regularly went to the boxing booth, keeping his body wiry.

Yet, wearing the expensive, white, loose linen shirt and loose white trousers barefoot, he looked a bit eccentric, but typically for him. His graying hair was still thick and quite long, and his features were angular but friendly.

And It was true. Amy talked with Roman almost daily on the phone, but they hadn't seen each other for over two weeks.

Camila served Amy a cold soda while Amy enjoyed the comfortable armchair and the wonderful view. Time flew by as they made small talk. Roman told her about his LA business and minor problems with one of his estates and asked her how she was doing in college. He was the only one who asked her personal questions because he had always been her father.

Even though Amy had a scholarship, Roman supported her by paying larger expenses and paying her very well to work in the sex shop. In this way, Amy had already been able to put a few thousand aside, and Roman knew it. And he was glad that his quasi-daughter was smart and reasonable. The self-made Millionaire has taken care of her since she was little, and her drug-addicted mother passed away. And it was one of his best deeds, as he said himself.

"Are you dating someone?" he asked unexpectedly. "You always seem so lonely. And, after all, you also need sex! Don't get me wrong, sweety, but you're my daughter. I don't want you to die lonely. Career and money are not everything. College isn't really a challenge for you, and I think you should have someone."

Amy laughed.

"I date a girl," she said straight forward.

"I'm really pleased," he answered. "Is she pretty?"

"I don't think she would be your type. She is blonde, so nothing exotic. But yes, she is lovely."

"I'm really pleased, really pleased," Roman repeated. "But I didn't call you here to ask about your sex life," he smiled.

"Is something wrong?" Amy asked, concerned.

"No. However, I have one bad news and two good news. Where do we start?"

"With the bad one," Amy answered.

"Okay," Roman started. "I sold the apartment you live in. In fact, I sold the whole apartment block," he said.

"Oh. And when do I have to move out?" Amy asked.

But Roman just raised his hand to interrupt her and to show that he hadn't finished speaking.

"It will be handed over to the new owner next month," he continued talking. "But now comes the good news. First, I want you to move in here."

"Where?"

"Here, in this house," he said. Seeing Amy's puzzled expression, he added: "Do not worry. I don't want you to live here with me. I move to Las Vegas. A new opportunity has opened up for me, and I want to take advantage of it."

"For how long?" Amy asked.

"I don't know. I have rented an estate for a year. And if everything goes well, then we'll see."