The Obedient Maid

Story Info
Service submission and femdom. She trains the maid.
1.5k words
4.11
7.6k
3

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 04/11/2024
Created 03/15/2024
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"When you arrive I want you to come in without knocking. Take your clothes off and fold them neatly somewhere. Then, get down on all fours with your legs spread a bit facing the mirror until I need you. Bring a buttplug but do not put it in yet."

I pulled up to the house a little after 3, took a deep breath, and got out of my truck. I entered the back gate that led to her apartment and, following her instructions, opened her door without knocking. I ascended the staircase and briefly glanced around the small apartment. Seeing and hearing nothing, I assumed that she was out and would be back soon. I breathed a sigh of relief. My tardiness would go unnoticed and unpunished. "Unless," I thought, "she's sitting somewhere quietly, watching to see if I follow her instructions." That thought frightened and excited me. I entered her bedroom and began to undress, folding my clothes neatly at first in a pile. Then I heard the front door open.

Shit. It was going to be obvious that I was late if she came up here and saw me still undressing. I quickly removed the rest of my clothes and got down on all fours. A full-length mirror was in front of me, through which I could see my cock and balls dangling underneath me. It looked so ridiculous and humiliating, and the fact that she would soon see this made me blush with shame. At the same time, my dick began to grow. If anything, this made the view even more ridiculous, and the cycle of shame, humiliation and arousal only made my dick harder and my mind blurrier. I felt slightly drunk. She slowly ascended the staircase and stopped to look at me. I saw her smirk in the mirror, and then she turned and walked into the other room. I continued to wait, my anxiety growing and my arousal sustaining, until she came into the room.

"Oh, that's what I like to see. You followed my instructions exactly." She caressed my back and butt. She smacked my ass hard with her open palm, and I let out a soft whimper in response.

"Stand up. I want to inspect you."

I obeyed.

She moved her eyes and hands all over my body and nodded approvingly. She grabbed the head of my still fully erect penis with her thumb and forefinger and scoffed.

"Oh my god, are you aroused right now? Is this turning you on?"

I swallowed hard. "Yes, ma'am."

She laughed, moved her hand around my cock a little, then cupped my balls.

"Wow, so tight. Slut, why are your balls so tight?"

"I... I don't know, ma'am."

With her hand facing up underneath my scrotum, she smacked my balls upwards a few times. I winced in pain. She giggled.

She removed her hand and stood up. Then, from above, she smacked my erect cock down softly.

"Does that hurt?" She asked.

I should have lied. I should have writhed around in pain. I should have left. I shouldn't have enjoyed this. What kind of sick fuck begs for a woman to hurt his manhood?

"No, ma'am" I quietly replied.

She smacked it again much harder, and the pain was immediate. While not unbearable, it was a novel sensation and I let out a low grunt.

"How about that?"

"Yes... ma'am" I stammered, resisting the urge to grab my cock and soothe it with my hand.

She smiled intensely and ordered me to get on my knees. She walked over to the toybox and pulled out a collar. From behind me, she put the collar around my neck. At this moment I felt such incredible pride. It was all so clear. Obey her, accept the pain with simplicity, and be honored.

"Get me the butt plug."

I stood up and began walking over to my bag.

"Bitch, did I say to get up?"

I stopped dead in my tracks and lowered myself onto my knees. I shuffled over to my bag and took out the plug and lube.

"Good, get into your position."

I obeyed. She put on a glove and applied lube. Slowly, she began to tease my butthole with her finger, caressing it and slowly inserting the tip, rotating it and bringing it back out.

"So tight! You're gonna have to work on that for me. By the next time you come here I want you much looser."

"Yes ma'am," I stammered, feeling more and more drunk.

She inserted the length of her finger and I let out an involuntary moan.

"Nice and clean." she said. "Don't you ever come here with a dirty asshole."

"Yes, ma'am."

She removed her finger and grabbed the butt plug. It was large for what I was accustomed to, and she no doubt noticed the resistance as she began to insert it.

"Just relax," she said, not in her 'mistress' voice, but in a soft and reassuring tone. Her other hand then reached out and began massaging my balls. She pushed the plug part-way in, teasing it, and then pulled it out repeatedly. Her other hand moved from my balls and began caressing my cock head.

"Oh my god, you're leaking!"

It was true, my dick was hard and I could feel the precum dribbling out. As the caressing continued I let out a few involuntary moans. I began to think I could cum if this kept up. But, as if she had read my mind, she said "no cumming!" I did my best to obey, putting it out of my mind. But she didn't stop caressing the head, rotating her palm on it and rubbing it between her fingers. If this didn't stop in the next 30 seconds I was going to lose it. The buttplug slid all the way in.

"Good job! What a good boy" she exclaimed. I beamed with delight.

"Now then, I want you to fold the laundry on the bed, scrub the tub and shower clean, vacuum my bedroom, give me a foot rub and paint my toenails, in that order. Get to it!"

The drunken feeling was overwhelming. My head was empty, lost at sea. My only desire was to please her. My only thought was to obey. At this moment, for this afternoon, I was her puppet. Her doll. Her plaything. She could cuddle me, dress me up, or tear my head off. It was all the same to me.

I absentmindedly got up and began walking to the bed.

"Bitch, who the fuck told you to stand?"

Again, I dropped to my knees and shuffled over. She stood and made to leave the room, but stopped at the door and looked down at my clothes. They had been hastily removed and left in a disorganized pile on the floor.

"You didn't listen to me. Didn't I tell you to put your clothes in a neat pile?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then why didn't you?"

"I heard you come home and wanted to be in the position by the time you came upstairs."

She scowled. "You were rushing."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Because you were late."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Stop folding the laundry. Lean over the bed. Stick your ass out."

I obeyed, terrified. I think she was taken aback by my display of fear, as she put a hand on my shoulder and whispered "you don't have to be so afraid," again in the soft and reassuring voice. But for me, the fear is the best part.

She took out a heavy wooden paddle. I had never been paddled before.

"How late were you?" she asked.

"Five minutes."

"Okay, then I'm going to hit you five times."

She started off with a few soft ones, and asked me to rate them on a pain scale from 1-10. I answered honestly. They were 2's and 3's.

Then she hit me in earnest. It was a stinging pain all over my ass, more intense than the spankings and floggings I was used to. I let out a grunt. She asked me to rate the pain. I replied that it was a 6.

"Hmm, that didn't seem like a 6 to me. I think that was an 8 or 9."

I knew she was right. If that was a 6, a 10 would leave me paralyzed. I was so thankful that she didn't take me at my word. She knew it could not be trusted. I would say and do anything to please her, pain be damned.

She gave me another one, slightly harder this time. I grunted, low and hard. My ass was already on fire.

She paused.

"Ok, let's begin for real. What did I say? Ten smacks?"

Before I could correct her the paddle came down hard, and then again, and then again. I did not think I could take ten, but I just gritted my teeth and reminded myself that the pain was only temporary, and that humans could always handle more pain than we assumed. She counted up as my mind went numb. I don't think I could have said the safeword even if I wanted to. But I was determined not to. I could take my punishment.

By the time it was over, I was laying with my head face-down in her clean laundry, sweating and whimpering.

"You're never going to be late again, are you?" she asked.

"No, ma'am" I lied.

"Well, get back to work."

I obeyed.

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AnonymousAnonymousabout 1 month ago

Great start! Try smoothing out your transitions between first and second person, I think that it might flow smoother.

Looking forward to reading more!

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