tagBDSMThe Maid

The Maid


Once upon a time, in a land which exists in the dark recesses of the mind, there was a Mistress. And the Mistress was me.

Night draws in. I have had supper with the visitor, a County Sheriff with a lame horse who appealed for a bed for the night. He is comely, I suppose, in the way of young, strong men, but really nothing interesting. Not to my taste. His eyes were merry, though, dark and knowing.

I retire to my dim, firelit chamber. My Maid is drowsing by the fire after a long day. I love this Maid. She is so obedient, such clever fingers. So pretty. I stand for a moment, admiring how the deep red dress sets off her long dark hair, and the swell of her breasts rising out of the tight bodice.

I clap my hands sharply. "Up, Maid! There is time for sport before we sleep."

She is awake immediately. "Yes, Mistress. What would you have me do?"

Ah, I love this girl. Quick as a fox.

"Maid, I am in the mood for a beating. Fetch me the crop, and the rope."

She flinches. It is only two days since I beat her last and she still has glorious purple bruises across her pink little arse.

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good girl."

I take her wrists behind her and tie them together. I pull her over to the table and push her down over it, my left hand resting on the back of her neck lightly but firmly. Already her hips are jammed up tightly against the table in hunger.

"How many did I give you last time, Maid?"

"Fifteen, Mistress."

"Good. I shall give you...twenty, and if you scream pleasingly I shall kiss you goodnight."

"Thankyou, Mistress!"

I hear the surprise in her voice. Normally I would go higher, but her bruises are so delightful I don't want to overstep the mark.

With my right hand I scoop up her skirts and fling them over her back. Aaah. Such a peach, a bruised peach. I cannot resist squeezing it, and even as she gasps in pain, I feel her growing hotter. I am a strict Mistress, but I do give my girl what she wants. Her cunt is practically dripping in anticipation, she burns with lust. I look forward to sating it.


The crop lands hard on her arse. She gasps, tears starting in her eyes.


"How many, Maid?"

"Five, Mistress...thankyou..." Her voice is dreamy, despite the tears trickling down her face. The crop on top of the bruising must have sent her out into space quickly tonight. She's barely conscious of anything but my loving hand on her, and the pain.


"I love you, Mistress...wonderous Lady..."


"I love you, Maid."


"How touching."

I spin around, crop raised, a curse on my lips. My staff know never to open my door uninvited on pain of...well, pain. And not pain they want, either.

In the doorway stands the dark-eyed young sheriff. Of course, it would be. I narrow my eyes.

"Leave us."

"I think not, My Lady."

He steps inside, closing the door behind him with a click. Holding my gaze, he crosses to the table where the Maid lies, smiling and a long way from here. Poor girl, I think. If she knew her whole, dripping cunt was on display to this man, how ashamed she would be.

"She's pretty. And obviously happy." He strokes a curl of hair back from her damp forehead.

"I do my best for my girl. But it's really none of your business and you should leave now." It's taking me all my energy not to ring the bell for my manservants, but there's a twinkle in his eye that stops me.

"When was the last time you were properly fucked, My Lady?"

The word and the polite address jars me. "That really is none of your business, My Lord Sheriff." I sniff. "I am not interested in...your kind, anyway."

"How interesting. Not for a long time, then, if ever. No wonder you walk so tall and stiff, and are so excruciatingly polite."

I gasp. "How dare you! Here in my own chamber!" I reach for the bell-pull.

Quick as a flash, he snatches my wrist out of the air and pins it to the wall. The crop twists out of my grip and slaps the floor. He's so close now, I can feel his breath on my face, sweet with mead, and warm. From the chair next to the fire he picks up a length of rope I have unwisely left lying there.

"My Lady, you are too unbending. You deserve a damn good fucking, so hard that you scream the moon down from the sky. I can't wait to see you come."

He's too close. I can feel his cock stiff in his breeches despite the thickness of my velvet winter dress. I shudder, revolted.

"Enough of your games." I wrench my wrist away from him, hissing and spitting like a cat. Not quick enough. He's got my arm twisted up behind my back now and I'm cursing, but it hurts and I can do nothing - my own house rules are working against me. Even if I scream, no-one will come, and the Maid is still out of the world, bound on the table.

Swiftly, he snatches my other hand before I manage to slap him, and before I know it he has tied them both together behind my back, in a strange mockery of the Maid's position. He takes the long end of the rope and tethers me, facing the Maid, to the bedpost. I can't move to save my life, can't scream. I will not weep, whatever he forces me to do.

Then he steps away from me. Surprised, I slump forward. He lifts the crop from the floor and strokes my cheek with it. I spit at him viciously.

"That's enough of that, My Lady. Give me a chance. I think you're going to enjoy this."

"I hardly think so. Forced, in my own chamber? Don't flatter yourself. You repulse me."

Smiling...the cheek of it! he crosses the room again and gently wakes the Maid. He bends over her, and I cannot hear his whisper, but her face brightens and she nods, smiling widely. Oh, my pure, beautiful Maid, about to be spoilt. I cannot bear to watch, and yet I am morbidly fascinated by his merry eyes and what he's said to her to make her smile like that. He bends to her again, lifting her carefully, and now he's taking off her dress. I can't stand it.

"Leave her alone, you foul bastard!"

He puts his head close to hers, and they turn their faces to me, identical, cunning grins spread across their faces. Her nakedness drives me wild, as ever. Oh, I can't bear to see her in his hands.

He whispers to her again and she points into a shadowy corner. No, I think. Not the box. She can't have told him about the box, the little traitoress.

She comes over to me, and her skilled hands unlace my bodice.

"Don't do this, Maid."

She places her finger across my lips. "Shhhh, Mistress. Have no fear." Her full breasts sway as she reaches down to unshoe me and remove my skirt. With exquisite slowness she pulls off my stockings and underclothes. I am quite naked now and helpless, my hands useless behind me. She reaches out a finger and draws the nail across my nipple, causing my whole skin to prickle despite the warmth of the fire.

I'll see you black and blue for this, I think.

"Ah! Here it is. I thought a woman of your...persuasions would have one." His voice echoes from the darkest corner of my chamber. Oh! what has he found, the pillager of my secrets?

He is behind me now, and the world goes dark.

"You would blind me as well? It is too late, you knave, I would know your loathesome face anywhere."

Again, the Maid presses her finger to my lips.


I feel my hands being untied, but no sooner are they free than they are tied in front of me instead. The rope jerks on them, tying me back again to the bedpost, hands above my head and stretched upwards, the cold post pressed between my breasts. I hear the creak of someone climbing on my bed in front of me.

SWISH-CRACK! He is using my own crop on me!

SWISH-CRACK! I gasp, shuddering. It has been a long time since I have felt the bite of the lash.

SWISH-CRACK! The pain spreads warmly over my backside, it's leading edge tingling sharply.

SWISH-CRACK! The blows are landing upon previous blows now. I struggle to keep my face straight and proud in front of my Maid's gaze.

SWISH-CRACK! At twenty lashes, he's into a strong, fast rhythm now and my head is beginning to spin. The pain is intense, it burns, I will burn forever, my arms ache dreadfully above me. And yet, and yet, I feel my cunt is wet and beginning to twitch in desire and anticipation of orgasm.

SWISH-CRACK! Thirty now, and I'm close to falling into a faint. It has been far too long since I had a Mistress myself, and my tolerance has faded as the years have passed.

He seems to realise, and the beating stops. My hands are brought down further, and my hips taken hold of to pull me backwards. I am now bending from the waist forwards, my burning arse high in the air. I feel my ankles shackled to some kind of bar that spreads me wide and open, but I am beyond caring at this moment. The pain is so intense that it almost blocks out the misery of being abused with my own tools.

I feel a pressure at my cunt. Dully, I think it must be his cock and now he will have me. I will not scream. Indeed, he is pushing into me now, so thick and heavy and hot. I cannot tell where the burning ends from the pain and where the burning of his entry begins. Hands grip my waist, forcing me hard onto his cock, it is the fucking of my life and I know it. I feel his thrusting, his great length rubbing at my insides. There are other hands now, fingers at my clit, a mouth briefly at my breast, another finger rubbing my arsehole and forcing entry.

It is too much. My hands wrap around the bedpost, nails clawing as the first waves of orgasm come over me, my body shaking in abandon, my cunt now gripping his cock hard, pulsing. The extra hands leave me and I begin now to scream as I am fucked mercilessly, coming and coming, unable to stop as wave after wave crashes over me.

And then the blindfold is snatched away and I am staring, screaming still, into his eyes, which dance wickedly before me.

Another orgasm rips through me as the realisation hits that it cannot possibly be him fucking me...

The cock is still in me, pushing hard, but spent, I collapse to my knees, sobbing. I feel it come out of me, slithering in my own juices. I ache everywhere; I have been fucked.

I am untied, he lifts me to the bed and kisses my damp forehead. The Maid stands at his side, still strapped into the harness she has been fucking me with.

"The moon has fallen, My Lady."

In the morning, he is gone. There is only a scrap of parchment left for me, with the words "I'm not interested in your kind either, My Lady."

In the afternoon, I beat the Maid until she bleeds.

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