The Mistress of the House Ch. 11

'Now, my dear, I have important business to be about, so must leave you to your own devices for the day.' Miss Coerator's hands ran over Hannah's body, tweaking and twisting her costume for the day into place - it was another maid outfit, of course, but the latex dress this time was knee-length in the front but utterly absent at the back, her butt entirely uncovered except for her chastity belt. The rest of the dress was tight against her body, the back scooping low, with long sleeves restricting her movements, and the mittens locked onto her hands. Stockings and heels completed the look, Miss Coerator's nails teasing against Hannah's inner thighs as she ensured everything was in position. There seemed to be a vast array of the things in the wardrobe, all slightly different, but all tight, restrictive and skimpy! Hannah had lost track of how long she had been here, having to endure that woman's caresses, although she had managed to evade punishment for a while.

'If I should return and find that you have been engaged in any untoward behavior, then I shall be very upset.' She stood, standing close enough to Hannah that her breasts pressed against Hannah's back, fingers rubbing against Hannah's neck, checking the collar was properly positioned. 'Today, I would like you to ensure the guest rooms are ready for use. They have been cleaned before, but the bedding will need laying out, as well as general dusting and polishing. Fresh bedding is in the laundry cupboard. It wouldn't do if my guests were to find their accommodation messy, would it?'

A pinch to Hannah's neck indicated that she should probably answer. 'No, Madam.' If she was gone for the day, then could she try and escape, or find another key to her belt or collar? A shock ran through her neck, as though summoned by her thoughts of rebellion.

'I have set your collar to give you a little nip every so often. To remind you of your duties. Oh, and should you stray from the areas you should be in, then the shocks will intensify. I returned from town once to find Chelsea in the entrance hall, writhing on the floor. She had soiled herself as well - all rather unpleasant, and that was the final straw before I assigned her to the dungeon on a permanent basis. I do hope you won't repeat her mistakes?'

Her breath was soft and warm on Hannah's head as she brushed and tidied Hannah's hair, pulling it through into a neat ponytail. 'No, Madam.'

'Very good. There is also some laundry of mine - it is in a basket in one of the guestrooms. The washing machines are close to the kitchens. I am also expecting a delivery, some new equipment for the kitchen. Kindly receive it and convey that to Cook. And once that is done, there is a room in the upper west wing I wish you to clean.'

She kissed Hannah on the back of the neck, gently at first then increasing the pressure, kiss turning to a bite, just as a shock snarled from the collar, making Hannah yelp. Miss Coerator chuckled. 'Oh, you are such a sweet little maid!' One of her hands slapped against Hannah's bare buttocks, the sound loud in the silence of the house. 'Such a shame I have other duties, otherwise it would be a pleasure to educate you some more.'

Hannah shivered - at the moment, there was only a small vibe locked behind her belt, nothing shoved into her ass or mouth, and she would like to keep it that way!

'Thank you, Madam.' She found herself spun around, Miss Coerator's hands on her shoulders, as she was kissed on the mouth, a tongue sliding against hers, hot and wet, before pulling back.

'Now, about your business, little maid. And remember - although I may not be here, don't do anything you shouldn't!' A final spin and a push sent Hannah into the hallways, Miss Coerator directing her before heading towards the entrance hall herself.

The guest rooms were all close together, coming off a wide hallway. Several plinths bore sculptures, all starkly erotic, but they were held in place with sturdy pegs and clips, making them easy to clean, despite the occasional sparking nips from her collar. The first she entered clearly showed Miss Coerator's interests, and probably what her guests enjoyed as well - the four-poster bed had chains and cuffs attached, so someone could easily be spreadeagled in place, with wooden stocks bolted to the floor opposite. Hanging on the wall were paddles, crops, whips, handcuffs and other tools and toys. Nothing that looked as though it might vibrate though - she wanted to get off! There must be a sybian somewhere in this place, one of those would surely buzz hard enough to work even through her chastity belt?

The bed was messy, having been vigorously used, whenever guests had last visited. The smell of long-stale sweat was heavy in the air - as Hannah approached, she could see dried sweat- and cum-stains on the sheets. Hannah imagined Miss Coerator spread out on the bed, cuffs around her limbs, spread open and exposed, gagged and blindfolded as men used her, fucking her senseless. Bet she wouldn't be so bossy and commanding then! She could do with a good seeing-to, along with a whipping, and worse.

A spike of electricity pulled her from her fantasy and she set to work, stripping the sheets and bedding, glad of the mittens as several used condoms fell to the floor. Fortunately, there was a bin in the en-suite, although it was almost overflowing with refuse from the previous visitors - condoms, condom wrappers, an empty bottle of lube, plasters and more. Hannah sighed. Could Miss Coerator not be tidier, or get her guests to clean up after themselves? This should have been done after the orgy or whatever had happened, not left for weeks or months!

The laundry cupboard, at least, was close by, with a wheeled trolley she could put the dirty bedding into, the clean items smelling as though recently laundered. With fresh bedding in place, the room was much improved! She progressed down the hallway, each room similar, but with different items of torment in - one had a medical examination chair with heavy straps, that could be tilted to expose the occupant, the legs and arms spread wide. Another had several large wooden "X"s hanging from the ceiling, each able to hold someone in place. All bore evidence of use - given that Miss Coerator had her own private dungeon, then this must be for guests? She shivered - hopefully Miss Coerator would protect her from them, if she did get visitors.

The final room in the hallway had the by-now usual bed, complete with chains and cuffs, but also had several person-sized caskets hanging from the ceiling, each of black plastic, with clips down the side. Hannah approached one, giving it a gentle push, the chain clinking as it shook, then she flicked open the catches.

Inside, there was a thin layer of padding, enough that the occupant would be entirely encased and enclosed, the insides molding themselves around them. It had clearly been used, the inside reeking of sex and sweat - when she looked at the front panel more closely, she found that an area over the crotch could be removed as a separate panel. So someone could be sealed into it, held utterly immobile, but still fucked and used. Maybe she could get Miss Coerator in, somehow? Tell the guests their hostess needed her rest, before presenting her as another piece of anonymous fuck-meat for general consumption.

On the reverse of the headpiece there was a narrow rubber tube, connecting to a barely-visible breathing slit. And a small lever could be flicked to open or close the eyes, so the captive could be blinded, or allowed to see who was coming to violate them. If it was Miss Coerator, then she should be allowed to see - so she would know which of her guests had fucked her! Sealed into the tight space, breath whistling through the tiny tube, pussy getting fucked raw... It would serve her right, and maybe she would be less commanding afterwards! Or she could be kept contained, her pride and strength slowly broken away, her leather skirts and silk blouses exchanged for a maid's outfit of her own, trapping her in an ass-bearing hobble skirt and chastity belt! That would be only fair.

The vibe inside of Hannah buzzed into life, pleasure spreading through her. Miss Coerator on a leash, forced to crawl along the floor and submit herself to a lash, that pale skin getting marked up by wax and nails. Heavy clips on her nipples, eyes tearing up as she tried to mumble through a large gag, spit welling up and dribbling out... The vibe cut off, Hannah's thighs clenching and wet, but leaving her unfulfilled. She really needed to get that key!

She clipped the panels back onto the casket, stripping the making the final bed. As she turned and began to wheel the cart out, she saw a plastic tub full of clothing by the door. Leather, lace and silk, mostly reds and blacks - this must be Miss Coerator's clothing! When she picked the tub up, she could smell the woman's scent, that rich musk sending another stir of desire through her. The clothing was very much what Hannah would have expected - expensive-looking blouses, fancy lingerie, rather more bras than panties or thongs, indicating that she normally wore nothing beneath those tight skirts of hers. She loaded the tub on top of her trolley, trying to ignore both the scent and the way it sparked her own desire, before wheeling it away down the hall.

This was an area of the house she had never been in before, and was even more of a mess than the rest, at least from the hallways she saw. At each turning, her collar would buzz if she went into an area she shouldn't, the shocks probably intensifying if she progressed. But the hallway was wide and broad enough to make pushing the cart easy, as it sloped downwards, a large wooden doorway marking a demarcation into a servant's area, the walls suddenly institutional-green. A scent, strong enough to cut through that of Miss Coerator, wafted from a doorway ahead - she had arrived at the kitchens, but from the other direction than before.

There was a metallic clanking, the cook stepping into view, the chain still running from her neck to the tracks on the ceiling, firmly limiting her far she could move - a few steps outside the door and no further. Her gag was still on, the metal slightly open, as she mumbled something at Hannah, reaching for the tub of Miss Coerator's clothing. Hannah shifted it out of reach, the cook's grasping still, angry grunting coming from behind her gag, changing to what sounded like begging.

Hannah rummaged through the clothing, pulling out a thong, a skimpy snatch of red lace, trying to ignore the scents wafting from the box, or how it was turning her on. The cook nodded eyes wide, enthusiastic "yipping" sounds coming from her muzzle.

'Kneel'. Hannah tried to sound commanding, but the woman obeyed, dropping to her knees, having to move slightly backwards to avoid choking herself. She was still making that soft, begging, keening sound as Hannah approached, holding the thong high. 'Stay.' She patted the cook on the head, running a hand along the muzzle-gag - it was securely locked on, of course, impossible to release without the key. 'If you obey, then you can have these. Do you understand?'

Enthusiastic nodding.

'Good girl. Stand and lift your skirt.'

The cook was wearing a latex dress as well, but hers was made to look like a chef's outfit, with buttons down her chest. They stood, but then made an uncertain whine, as latex-wrapped fingers slowly pulled their skirt up, eyes still on the thong. Hannah pushed her hand beneath their skirt, tapping against metal. It felt strangely reassuring to know that she wasn't the only one locked into chastity! She moved the thong closer, watching the woman's eyes go wide as it approached, slipping into a state of bliss. Hannah pushed it against her face so she could smell it, listening to the happy whines the woman made - if she was a dog, her tail would be drumming against the door right now.

'OK, you can keep it, but don't let her know!' Having a shared secret could be useful, and, from how obsessed the woman seemed to be with Miss Coerator, she might be a useful ally in capturing her. 'Would you like to spend more time with the mistress?'

Happy nods.

'I'll see what I can do.' If she could get the mistress locked up, then the cook might be willing to help with that, if she were allowed access as well. She let go of the thong, the cook snatching it from the air and rubbing it against her face, sniffing it, lost in rapture as Hannah backed off, heading for the next door. It had a bank of washing machines, heavy-duty ones, easily able to consume the bedding. Miss Coerator's clothing was more complicated, requiring sorting by material and color, as Hannah's vibe kicked into life. The motor's twisting around mingled with the woman's scent to leave Hannah almost paralyzed with lust - she tried grinding against the washing machines, but the belt was too thick, even with the vibe buzzing away inside and the washing machine shaking away.

When that was done, it was time for her next job. As she moved passed the kitchen, the cook appeared again, still flushed and happy-looking, a chunky ploughman's sandwich being handed over. Hannah thanked her and ate it as she travelled to her next task, collar steering her through permitted areas of the house. As she moved through the entrance hall, trying to be swift as the whining buzz of the collar built up in a warning, there was a knocking at the door, making her jump. It couldn't be Madam back already, could it? Not unless she had forgotten her keys.

Hannah cautiously approached, steeling herself as the door shook under another impact. It took several tries with her mittened and bound hands before she was able to grasp the handle and make it turn. She wasn't locked in? That meant she could escape... If it wasn't for the collar.

Outside, the sky was grey and overcast, threatening rain. A deliveryman looked at her, pausing for a moment, but then smiling, clearly appreciating her uniform. She blushed, her bare ass suddenly feeling very cold and exposed, even though he couldn't see that.

'I've got a package here, need you to sign for it.' He tapped a large carboard box. This must be the pans for the cook! Hannah flexed her fingers inside her mittens, unable to write on the proffered papers. She glanced around - on the shelf by the door was a rubber stamp. The grip was chunky enough that she could pick it up, managing to fumble it into place and stamp it down on the paper. It was hard to read the upside-down red imprint, but it looked like Miss Coerator's signature, although her first name was too much of a squiggle to make out.

He lifted the package up and handed it over, Hannah cradling the thing in her arms, glad it wasn't that heavy. She didn't want to turn around and expose herself though, so stayed in place, trying to shift the package to cover herself, acutely aware of how short the skirt was. The vibrator chose that moment to activate, the sound of it clearly audible, as she tried to hide her encroaching arousal.

'Is there anything else?'

He looked around, trying to spot where the buzzing was coming from. 'No, just that. Nice place, although I guess it must be a pain to keep clean?'

She tried not to groan, wanting nothing more than to get away. 'It's very...' The vibe stepped up in intensity, enough that she could feel her juices started to trickle downwards, panting slightly. 'Large, yes. I have a lot...' She bit her lip, reeling on the edge of an orgasm '...to do though, so...' If this kept up much longer, she was going to collapse in an orgasmic puddle in front of him!

'Oh, sorry, mustn't keep you! Surprised your boss isn't in, she normally signs for things. Don't mind when she does, she's quite the looker.'

'Yes, she...' She took a deep breath, trying to focus. 'Is.' He looked at her with concern. 'I'm fine, re... really.'

Hannah was barely holding on as he finally left, allowing her to shut the door, vibe cutting off, leaving her dangling in frustration, sweat now clinging to her body. As she sagged against the wall, glad of its coolness, the collar shocked her. 'I couldn't help it, I couldn't just tell him to piss off!' It zapped her again, ignoring her protests as she picked up the package and scuttled back to the kitchen, the collar chiding her constantly until she had delivered the package and then travelled to the next room she was meant to be cleaning.