Date: Fri, 6 Jan 2017 20:11:14 -0500 From: victoria.vixen Subject: The Thai Maid 5 - 6 The Thai Maid Chapter 5 - Victoria succumbs to the big blue dildo - Thursday ================================================================================ Miss took me by the hand and helped me off the table. I was still dressed in my maid's outfit, and wearing leather cuffs on each wrist and ankle. The change in her demeanor was almost instant: she was the old, smiling Bee, and I felt once again there was a chance Miss could love me. She hugged me, and we kissed, at first tentatively nibbling each other's lips, but progressively we grew more passionate. She broke off the embrace, took me by the hand, and led me back out of the sunroom. There is a phrase in Nabokov: "my knees were reflections of knees." This is how I felt as Bee guided me from the sunroom, through the master bedroom, to the bathroom. The master bath was nearly as large as the bedroom, with his and hers sinks, a glass-enclosed shower, a dressing table and chair, marble tile floor, and a small attached room with a toilet and bidet. The centerpiece of the bathroom was a huge claw-foot tub, easily big enough for two. X and I had spent many an afternoon fucking in a bubble bath. He loved to lie on his back while I straddled him and held the sides of the tub, looking in his eyes and letting the water lift my body as he fucked my pussy. Thank goodness the floor had a drain, because we often ended up splashing half of the tub's water over the rim. A shower curtain ring in the shape of the tub hung from the ceiling. Miss sat me down on the edge of the tub and stood between my open legs. I pulled her closer, her stomach level with my mouth. I leaned forward and traced a circle around her belly button, and she giggled. "Vicky tickles," said Miss. I could tell she was feeling playful. She ran her fingers through my hair, gently brushing my face with her hand, and popped her thumb in my mouth. I sucked it, and looked up into her eyes. "Vicky so pretty," said Miss, and my heart swelled. Miss leaned past me, and turned on the water in the bathtub, part hot, part cold, just right. Instead of plugging the tub, though, she let the water run down the drain. "Vicky," said Miss, "Eyes closed. Surprise." I took a last look deep in Miss's eyes, smiled, and closed my eyes tightly. I felt Miss move away from me, and heard a cupboard open and close. Next, it sounded like something was filling with water, and then I heard Miss turn the tap off. Finally, I heard the clink of metal on metal. "Vicky," said Miss, "eyes open." I opened my eyes anxiously, looked at Miss -- and nothing had changed. Miss smiled at me and stroked my hair again. Then she pointed above my head. From the shower curtain ring hung a strange contraption: a rubber bag with a tube snaking out of it. A metal clamp seemed to keep the tube closed. I'm sure my face looked blank as I studied it, and then it hit me... Oh my God it's an enema bag! I thought. She can't! She did. "Miss?" I said, startled. "Vicky," said Miss, "turn around." "Yes Miss," I said, shakily. I got off the edge of the bathtub, and turned around so that my hands were placed on the bottom of the tub, my hips were on the edge with my bottom in the air, and my feet were on the floor. My hands shook as I moved into place. X, fucking X that goddamn bastard, I thought. He must have told her that I fantasize about enemas but that I've never had one. My face felt hot. I was so humiliated, and angry -- angry at X for sharing such embarrassing secrets with Miss. I decided to kill him when I saw him, and I was so consumed with anger that I even forgot about Miss for the moment. "Woo!" I yelled, and nearly jumped out of my skin when a finger coated with some cold lubricant snaked around my anus and pressed itself in. Miss thought this was uproariously funny and started giggling. Miss reached over my head and grabbed the end of the tube, which was capped with a lewd looking nozzle. She lubed the nozzle and waved it in my face. I was so angry I felt close to tears. "Vicky," asked Miss, "What is?" "An enema, Miss," I said. "For who?" Miss asked, playing coy. "Me, Miss," I said, my face blushing as deeply as it could blush. Miss was mocking my initial attempt to dominate her with a butt plug. "Ask," said Miss. Goddamn goddamn goddamn she's going to make me ask for it, I thought. I am going to kill that motherfucker when he comes home I really will kill him goddamn him. I took a deep, shaky breath. "Miss," I said, "please put the nozzle in me." "Where?" asked Miss, all innocent. "Up my ass, Miss," I whispered, and a tear slipped down my cheek. "Up my ass please." The cold hard plastic of the nozzle slipped past my anus as Miss pressed the issue. I wish I could say I was turned on but at the moment I was so angry with X that I was having trouble enjoying myself. Miss lodged the nozzle firmly in my bottom, and said one word again: "Ask." I hung my head. This was the worst. This was not sexy, this was simply humiliating. "Miss," I said, "Please give me the enema." I waited for the rush, not knowing what to expect. But Miss simply stroked my cheeks gently with her hand, cooing and whispering my name: "Vicky, sweet Vicky." I asked again, "Please Miss, please fill me with water." The nozzle was cold and hard, but Miss only continued stroking my bottom and whispering. I couldn't stand the anticipation any more. "Miss," I said, "I need it now." Without a word Miss flipped the clamp and I felt the flow of the warm water filling me. Miss moved a hand down to my pussy and massaged me while the water flowed. I tried to relax and accept it, and after a few moments the fullness kind of felt... nice. It started to feel... naughty, with Miss rubbing my pussy and the water warming and filling me. Miss turned off the flow and slowly pulled the nozzle from my bottom, and then took me by the hand to help me stand up. I felt wobbly on my feet and my bottom felt full; I squeezed my cheeks so I wouldn't embarrass myself. Miss kissed me passionately, which was nice, but I was distracted. She could tell my attention was elsewhere, and smacked me fiercely on the bottom. I yelped, and squeezed my anus as tightly as I could. I really needed to go. Miss giggled at my discomfort, and smacked my bottom once more before sending me off to the toilet to relieve myself. When I returned, Miss had refilled the bag, and once again she told me to lean over the rim of the tub. This time, I knew what to expect and was able to relax when she slipped the nozzle into my anus. I moaned, and wriggled my bottom to please Miss. Again, she released the clamp and I felt myself fill with warm water. Again, she sent me off to the water closet to relieve myself. It's hard to put yourself on equal footing with another woman after she's given you an enema. When I came out of the water closet I had trouble looking Miss in the eye. I felt emptied out, and clean -- and now I suppose I knew why Miss was always so amazingly fresh. Miss sat on the chair of the dressing table. In my absence, she had gone off to find the butt plug, the harness, and the strap on blue dildo. Where I had left them I can't even recall. Miss motioned for me to lie down across her lap, face down. I was so much taller than she was I was afraid of hurting her thighs, but she seemed fine. She handed the butt plug to me, and I knew what to do: I put it in my mouth and sucked it like a lollipop. Miss massaged my bottom, rubbing my cheeks and my thighs and letting her fingers trail between my legs to graze my pussy. I felt so squirmy and empty, and pushed my bottom up toward her hand. She dipped a finger into my pussy, and gently rubbed my clit. I then felt her rub something slick between my cheeks, and Miss held out her hand for the butt plug. When Miss had inserted the plug previously, she had pushed it in with one slow but firm motion. This time, though, she teased my bottom with the plug, drawing circles with its tip. I pushed my bottom to meet the plug, but each time I pushed, Miss withdrew. Push, withdraw, push, withdraw, push... and on the fourth push Miss held the plug still. I grunted as my anus stretched the accept the tip of the plug, stretched to accept its widening neck, and finally stretched to accept the wide flare before the base. Once again, I felt full and wanted. Miss grasped the base of the plug and gently twisted it, first one way, then the other. I was delirious with desire and my pussy desperately need more attention. Miss smacked my bottom hard, twice -- ow! ow! -- and then motioned for me to stand up. I massaged my aching cheeks while Miss turned on the bath water once more, and watched while she plugged the tub and poured in bubble bath crystals. I know it sounds crazy, but watching Miss put a rubber stopper in the bathtub drain made me wonder... was I anything more to her than a hole to be plugged? While the tub filled, Miss removed the leather cuffs from my wrists and ankles. Miss took me by the hand and we stepped into the tub together. Miss turned to kiss me passionately on the mouth, and my knees were weak with delight. We washed each other, rolling in the suds and kissing, our asses and breasts poking above the water like islands of pleasure, mine white, hers brown. Miss would roll and bend and twist, presenting a silky brown nipple for nibbling or a slender soapy finger for sucking. Miss rolled over on her hands and knees and lifted her bottom out of the soapy water. She looked back over her shoulder at me, and I eagerly moved to kiss her bottom, but her face hardened, and she shook her head No sharply, once. "Ask," hissed Miss. "What do you want, Vicky?" I looked her in the eye and thought for a moment. I said, "Miss, the only thing in the world I want more than to kiss you between your cheeks is for you to wreck my bottom with your big blue dildo. It's all I want, and all I'll ever want." Miss laughed -- this made her happy, and she pushed her bottom a bit higher out of the water and turned her hips out. Her bottom spread open to reveal a tight and soapy brown asshole perfect for licking, and that is what I did. I nibbled her brown bottom and pressed my lips against her anus, gently rimming the edge with my tongue. Miss moaned and pressed her bottom back into my face. The water sloshed, and I could see Miss reach back between her legs to touch her pussy as I worshipped her bottom. Worship: I have read that word before and never believed it; what does it mean to worship a bottom anyway? But now I understood: I dreamed I was floating in heaven with my Miss, and as the water sloshed and she patted her own pussy and I kissed her ass gently until I felt it squeeze in orgasmic rhythm around my tongue and Miss whimpered in pleasure, I knew she was an angel from on high. But Miss could be a demon too, and not long after she climaxed her darker half asserted itself. As she turned to face me, she gave me a beatific smile and kissed my forehead. Reaching underneath me, she reminded me of my place by gripping the base of my butt plug and giving it a savage twist. I winced in pain, but I didn't mind too much. I had only asked Miss for two things, and she had already given me one of them. We rinsed off, and Miss drained the water out of the tub. Miss made me stand up and turn around, face away from her and bend over. I braced myself, expecting her to pull the plug out of my bottom and either spank me or give me another enema. But I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt Miss's tongue on my pussy! Oh God, how good it felt to have Miss's tongue flick up and down my pussy lips and feel her nibbling my clit. Miss's expert tongue traced little circles around my clit, and darted in and out between my pussy lips. With her thumb, she thumped the base of my butt plug, not hard, just enough to get a tapping rhythm going in my bowels in time to the licks. I was out of my head with pleasure and gripped the rim of the tub ever tighter. Just as I was about to cum, though, Miss smacked my bottom and laughed, taking her tongue away from my needy clit. We stepped out of the tub, and Miss once again put the cuffs on my ankles and wrists. She then handed me the huge blue dildo and its harness. I knew what to do with it: I got down on my knees and attached the harness underneath Miss's legs and around her waist. As I buckled the harness, the dildo bumped against my forehead. Eye to eye, as it were, it was just so big, and I didn't have any idea how I was going to accept it. I looked up at Miss, and she smiled and patted me on the head (an extraordinary insult in Thai culture). She gripped the dildo with her hand, unable to reach her fingers around its circumference, and rubbed the tip of the dildo on my face. I opened my mouth for her, but she simply slapped the end of the dildo lightly on my cheeks, first one, then the other, then back to the first. My face stung from the slapping, but I continued holding my mouth open. Left cheek, right cheek, the slapping continued, and I closed my eyes. Miss gently rested the dildo on my bottom lip, and I stuck out my tongue to lick its tip. "Vicky, suck it," said Miss. I stretched my lips around the fake cock and took its head into my mouth. I had to open my jaw as wide as it would go to let the beast in, and couldn't imagine how my bottom would be able to do the same. Miss slowly pressed the dildo into my mouth until it filled the back of my throat and I gagged. I can't say I'm so turned on by sucking a dildo; give me a warm flesh and blood cock in my mouth any day. But I could tell Miss enjoyed watching me struggle to fit the blue dildo in my mouth and I was happy to perform for her. Miss eventually pulled the dildo out of my mouth and motioned for me to stand up. She cuffed my ankles together, and then my wrists. She handed a wet wash cloth to me. As she led me to the bedroom, it was all I could do to waddle slowly with my ankles cuffed and my bottom plugged. As we approached the bed, I began to tremble. The blue dildo swung heavily from Miss's hips with every step she took, and I knew each step brought us closer to my rendezvous with fate. When we reached the bed, Miss took the wash cloth from me and put it on the night stand. Then Miss put me on my hands and knees and pulled my hands back between my legs, clipping them to the cuffs on my feet. I was in her favorite position again: face down, bottom up, and helpless. I could feel a tugging as Miss gently pulled the plug out of my bottom, and she then set it next to my face on the pillow. Next, she leaned over to the nightstand and brought out a tiny tube of KY jelly. Miss dipped a finger into my pussy and stroked me. Then a second finger in my pussy. Mmm... When she felt like being gentle, her touch was the lightest in the world; it was like being fucked by air. I was soaking with anticipation and my pussy loved the attention. But not for long: Miss pulled her fingers out of my pussy and slowly drew a line up my crack with her fingertips. She massaged first one cheek, then the next, with her fingers eventually following gravity's pull and drifting toward my anus. Slowly, she pushed a finger up my bottom. I closed my eyes as Miss pumped me lightly, then felt her stretching my bottom to accommodate a second finger. Again she slowly pumped, light and gentle, in and out, until I could feel her knuckles pressed against my flesh, both fingers lodged firmly and entirely in my bottom. She began to whisper "So beautiful, Vicky, so beautiful," and I whimpered. I was so relaxed the her two fingers slipped easily in and out of my ass. I could feel the heat of her face as she leaned forward to lick my pussy while she slowly pumped me, and the rhythm of the flicking and licking tongue in tandem with the pumping fingers made me mad with desire. Before I could climax Miss gently withdrew her fingers and got on her knees directly behind me. I could hear her open the tiny tube of KY, and after a moment felt the weight of her blue beast rest against my back door. I tremble even to recall it. Miss remembered my question to her on the day I first tried to dominate her, and she mocked me with those words: "How sluts like it, Vicky?" I knew the answer she wanted, and I whimpered, "Up the ass, Miss. Sluts like it up the ass." Gently but steadily, she rubbed the tip of her blue dildo in circles around my anus, and I wagged my hips in response. She stopped rubbing and held her hips still, letting the weight of her body force the blue beast against my tiny hole. I whimpered, "Oh Miss." Miss said, "Shh... so pretty." Miss again leaned into my body, and my ring began to buckle under the weight of her dildo. The head pressed into me, and it hurt. Bad. I didn't know how I could take her into me. My ring held, and pressed into my body as the dildo attempted to enter. Another gentle but firm press: ouch. Miss withdrew, and I could hear her apply a bit more KY to the head of her dildo. I was nervous, and said "Oh God, Miss, I don't know if I can -- mmmff!" Quick as a snake, Miss leaned over my back, grabbed the butt plug from the pillow, and stuffed it into my mouth. "Vicky talk too much," said Miss. She had grown tired of my protests. This time, she took the dildo in hand and pressed the head against my anus. I could feel the pressure was different, and firmer, this time: Miss was tired of playing games. Without any sudden motions, Miss pressed her hips firmly forward, and my ring again fell under the immense, intense pressure of her huge blue dildo. It felt like she was simply pressing a fist against my anus, and I wished I could look back over my shoulder to ensure that she wasn't in fact doing that! Pressure, pressure, pressure, and without warning the head of her dildo popped inside me. Owwwwwww!!!!!! My shriek was muffled by the butt plug, and Miss pressed again as my bottom winced under the weight of her ass wrecker. A quarter inch? I sobbed into the pillow and felt like I was being ripped in two. I panicked, and spit out the plug. "Oh God Miss I can't do it," I sobbed. "It's too much! I can't I can't oh please you're killing me! Anything but that dildo up my ass Miss I can't!" Miss ignored my protest and pushed -- an inch, or another mile, who knew? "Oh God Miss please my poor asshole you're wrecking me please stop ow! ow! ow! Oh please stop it Bee I can't stand it Bee please I can't do it don't hurt me!!!" Miss froze. Oh God what had I done? I had called Miss by her first name! Had I gone mad? Surely she would abandon my now? What could I do? I was so overwhelmed that I was struck dumb, and I moved my mouth to beg forgiveness but no words would come out. I felt the weight of the blue beast slowly withdraw, and my anus closed up again as the dildo left my bottom entirely. And then Miss did a frightening thing: she leaned between my ankles and unhooked my arms from my legs. Next, she unlocked my ankle cuffs and finally unlocked my wrist cuffs. Miss reached past me to retrieve the wash cloth from the night stand and cleaned the blue dildo with it. I still could neither speak nor move for fear of losing my Miss. And then Miss did a simple thing that changed my life forever: She gently turned me over on my back. She grasped the fat dildo with her hand and placed it between my legs, rubbing it up and down from my bottom to my top, first pressing gently against my anus, next gently pressing against my pussy. She looked me in the eye, and she said one word: "Choose." And just like that I was free. The most free I've ever been. Time and again, I thought I had submitted to her will, but each time I held a bit of myself back. When pressed to the moment of crisis with Bee's enormous blue dildo, twice I had walked right up to the edge of a cliff, twice looked into the abyss, and twice pulled back. Now, Miss had thrown me over the side and I was free. How many times had I said "Yes Miss" that week? How could I have known I didn't even mean it until just this moment. Miss owned me, and now that I understood that it made everything so much easier. I returned Miss's gaze, my beautiful brown petite and wicked Miss, and opened my mouth but no words would come. "Vicky has to want it," whispered Miss. I reached my hand down between Miss's legs, fumbling to grasp the enormous, slick dong. I took it by the head. I lifted my legs up. Pressing its head against my anus, I drew a deep breath and said, "Vicky wants it." Miss smiled, and began rubbing the dildo's head between my cheeks with the lightest strokes imaginable. I found my voice. "I want it Miss. I need it. Please Miss, please make love to me, please fuck me with your blue cock, please bury yourself to the hilt in my ass." Miss liked hearing this, and my heart swelled as I saw something new in her face, not just wickedness but desire. I could smell a new scent in the room, and I knew somewhere down past my stomach, somewhere down behind her fat fake dong, somewhere tucked away beneath the harness, her pussy was wet. She wanted me. I found the tube of KY and rubbed some on the head of the cock, all the while looking Miss directly in the eye. I raised my legs as high as I could, nearly over my head. And I grasped the base of the dong and pressed it against my backside. Propping herself up with one hand, Miss lightly teased my nipples with the other, her fingertips skittering across my tight skin. She leaned her body into mine, and for the second time my bottom opened for her dildo, but this time as a hungry, wanting mouth. My eyes widened as Miss entered me, just the head, and Miss leaned down toward me. I could see that she wanted to kiss me on the lips, but inches and inches of dildo separated our bodies. I would have to do something about that. I found the tube of KY and I threw it on the floor. I reached between my legs and found my pussy sopping wet. Rubbing my hand against my lips, I gathered my juices and slathered the dildo with them, then once again looked Miss in the eye and said "More please." Miss pressed again, slowly and firmly, and my ass began to yield under the combined pressure of Miss's weight and my desire. One inch. Two inches. My asshole stretched wider than I thought possible. The pain: how to describe it? I felt like I was being split in two. Too much cock, and not enough ass to accommodate it. But every inch brought me closer to kissing my Miss. Bearing down again, I closed my eyes at the stretching sensation, but Miss whispered, not unkindly, "Vicky, open." I looked at Miss, my beautiful Miss, and staring into her bottomless brown eyes I once again said "More please." Another inch. Another. My universe became nothing more than my wildly stretched bottom, the blue cock, and my mad desire to kiss Miss on the lips. Her face now only inches away from mine, but the inches might have been miles for all of the work we had to do the get her cock the rest of the way up my ass. I wanted to simply raise my head to kiss her, but my Miss deserved more and I was going to give her all I had. "More please, Miss," I grunted, and I could feel a trickle of sweat on my temple. Another inch. Another. A tear rolled down my cheek at the stretching, the strain, and my desire. Another. Miss's mouth, so close to mine, her beautiful face, so close to mine. Her eyes, wild with desire, wild with passion, and yes, I will say it: wild with love. I could see the love in her eyes, my Miss loved me, and I pushed myself against her until with a whimper -- from me? from her? -- her hips met my bottom. She was in. To the hilt. Up my ass. Our eyes met from inches away. Her eyes darted back and forth across my face, and she pressed her lips into mine. Her breath sweet beyond description, her tongue small and darting, my lips yielded to hers and we kiss passionately. She held my head and touched my face and she opened her mouth and our tongues entwined. The base of her harness grinded against my pussy and my juices flowed down between my cheeks and over the huge blue invader, sitting still in my bowels. She kissed me again and stroked my face and I knew then that I could spend an eternity like this, loving and being loved by her. But I had work to do, and I wanted to please my Miss. I whispered in her ear, echoing my pledge from earlier that day: "My ass. You own it. Now fuck it like you own it." And I bit her, lightly, on the lip before pinching one of her nipples hard. Miss yelped, and smiled, and some of the wickedness returned to her face. With a laugh, she began to withdraw slowly and gently from my bottom, and with one last kiss lifted her body off mine. An inch receded. Another. Another. The feeling of loss was overwhelming, and I struggled not to cry. From this moment forward I knew that any time spent without Miss's dildo inside me was time spent not pleasing Miss, but I knew I would be getting it back soon. Another inch, another, and with a tiny plop the head of her dildo slipped out of me and onto the bed. Before Miss could act, I scrambled to my knees and leaned over, grabbing the blue dildo and sucking its sour head. I sucked it, spit on it, and slicked it with enough saliva as I could muster, and Miss laughed until I pinched her nipple again. Without being told, I rolled over on my stomach and pulled my knees under my body. I reached my hands back behind me and pulled my cheeks open. I looked over my shoulder and in a steady voice, looking Miss directly in the eye, I said to Miss: "My ass. My pink asshole. You own it. Fuck it like you own it." Miss grabbed the back of my head and stuffed my face in the pillow. With her free hand, she pressed the head of her dildo against my anus, hard, and without warning forced herself two inches into me. I whimpered and cried, but pushed myself back onto her. She thrust in several more inches, and I sobbed into the pillow, but managed to say, "Fuck it Miss! Fuck it! Fuck my ass!" She obliged me. Gentleman readers, did you know that the short, shallow in-out strokes that you see in porn don't really do anything for a woman? If you're going to properly buttfuck a woman, do it as deeply as you can and make the strokes from head to hilt, not shallow. Bee knew this. Within moments, I could feel her hips pressed against my cheeks as she sank into the hilt up my ass. Miss waited briefly to let me get adjusted to the fullness and stretching, but not for long. She began to pump me, slowly at first, long and slow strokes pulling almost entirely out of my bottom and pressing entirely back in to the hilt. She raked her nails lightly across my back and goose bumps erupted all over my body. I reached between my legs to touch my pussy but Miss slapped my hand away. And then she got a rhythm going. Long, deep strokes in my ass but faster and faster, my bottom warming from the heat. Her hips met my cheeks again and again, at first pressing gently into my pillows of flesh but eventually smacking with noisy claps as she banged in and out of my ass, pounding me harder and deeper. I could feel a trickle of liquid running down the inside of my leg and for a wild moment I feared I was bleeding, but I looked between my legs and could see my pussy was literally dripping wet. I needed to cum so badly, my clit and pussy swollen with lust, and I reach my hand between my legs again, but this time Miss slapped my hand away much harder than the last time. I put my hands back on my cheeks, and spread them as wide as I could. I needed to cum, and I knew I had work to do. I took a deep breath, and said as calmly and as sternly as I could "Fuck it, Miss, harder. Fuck my ass. Show me who is the Miss and who is the servant. That's not hard enough." And I heard a new sound: Miss began to moan. I knew her pussy was grinding against the base of the harness, and the harder she fucked me the more her pussy would grind. Anything for my Miss. "Is that all you've got?" I grunted, as the tears streamed down my face. "Fuck me harder. I need to get fucked in my ass harder Miss." Miss, wild with desire, love, and anger, spanked my bottom as hard as she could. She pulled all the way out of my ass for a moment, an infinite moment of emptiness, and plunged all the way back in to the hilt. I muffled my cries with the pillow and wept as she pillaged me. My pussy throbbed and I knew a climax was not far off, either mine or hers or both. She moaned and rubbed herself, and plunged again. I pushed my ass back to smack against her hips and bounced back and forth. Miss moaned again, louder, and then suddenly held herself still. All was quiet, except for my heavy breathing and whimpering, and Miss held her breath. I waited, and dared not move. And when she exhaled, she let her breath out in a long wail of lust and longing and satisfaction: ooooooooOOOOOOHHHHHHHH... ...and Miss came and came and came and my heart was overflowing with happiness for the gift I had just given my Miss. She dug her nails into my back and pressed my face into the pillow. And she began to pump again, slowly. She whispered "Vicky, Vicky, Vicky, Vicky," over and over and reached one hand under my body to rub my swollen clit. She was going to give me what I had given her. Miss rubbed my pussy, but as I came close to cumming she giggled and pulled her fingers away. Placing her hands on my cheeks, she spread my ass and massaged my bottom as she once again built a rhythm of assfucking. Mad with desire and needing to cum, I drifted out of my head and in my mind's eye saw the scene from above: a beautiful, petite Thai woman whose face is shining with happiness and wickedness, her breasts tight and high, her stomach flat, and around her waist an obscenely large blue dildo. On a bed face down beneath her, a fit white woman with her face in a pillow and her ass in the air. Her back glistens with sweat, and sheets are strewn around the bed in sticky disarray. The Thai woman holds her white servant's cheeks open, the Miss's beautiful brown graceful fingers a contrast to the white globes of the servant's ass, and the dildo saws in and out of the servant's ass as her breasts sway back and forth underneath her to the beating she's taken. Her asshole is a stretched ring that desperately grips the dildo as its pulled out, and collapses under its weight as it's pushed in. My mind's eye drifts back up to Bee's serene face and I see her gazing longingly at the back of my head, at my fit thighs, at my sweet ass, and the look on her face is the look of love, my dear Miss loves me and loves fucking my ass and she leans over and whispers in my ear "Vicky so pretty, pretty pink asshole" and my orgasm hits me like a sledgehammer and I cum and cum and cum and my asshole spasms painfully around the huge blue dildo and the pleasure and distress, the love and the humiliation, the ass, the pussy, and the blue cock -- all are inseparable. I cum harder than I ever have in my life, my pussy untouched by my Miss and my body entirely turned to Jell-O. I collapsed onto the bed. Miss slowly pulled her blue cock out of my ass, and I could feel I was not so quick to close up as previous times. I turned on my side, the pillow still wet from my tears, and Miss lay down next to me. I held her in my arms and we kissed. I watched as she drifted off to sleep. Although I felt sleepy, I could not let this moment pass and simply watched my beautiful Miss. A final tear rolled down my cheek. I was spent. Loved. Owned. The Thai Maid Chapter 6 - Victoria reflects on her submission ================================================================================ The Thai Maid Chapter 6 Part 1 - Friday, 2 Months Later ================================================================================ As usual, I woke with the first light of the day, but on this morning I just couldn't bring myself to get out of bed right away. We found out yesterday that X is being transferred out of Bangkok; the company needs him elsewhere so our time here will soon come to an end. I looked around my room -- the maid's room. That's right, two months later I am still the maid for Bee and X, or as I now call them almost exclusively, Miss and Sir. I cook, and clean, and take care of household affairs, all in my little French maid's outfit. I am to have breakfast ready for Miss and Sir every morning, even Sundays. Unlike Miss, I am never given a day off. Each and every morning my butt plug waits on the breakfast table, ready to violate me. Most mornings, but not all, Miss allows me to get the dish of butter from the refrigerator to ease the entry. Other mornings Miss only lets me lick the plug before telling me to push it up my bum -- she seems to prefer watching me stuff my own bottom rather than putting it in for me. Miss has purchased plugs of various sizes, some small, some very big, and the plug I find on the table is a good barometer of her mood. One of the new plugs has become my favorite: it has a maid's feather duster on the end of it, and is bent so that when I wear it the duster sticks up out of my bum almost like a rooster's tail. I've often hoped that Miss would take a picture of me with that plug, but she hasn't yet and I can't bring myself to ask her. Miss has nice days and mean days, but I fear she is beginning to tire of me. I still love her as much as I ever have, and her frostiness only increases my longing. What separates the unbroken from the broken? As I wrote this story, I went back and forth on how to describe my growing love for my Miss. Things happened so fast I can't put my finger on one event, one look, or one thing she said that marked the point at which I can say "Before this time I was my own and I did not love her; after this time she owned me and I loved her with all my heart." The truth is, once I fell for Bee everything she did made me love her more and more. But if I were forced to pick one moment when I knew -- really knew -- I wanted to serve her and love her (and if you are even a little bit submissive you will know that service and love can be the same thing), it would be the Thursday afternoon two months ago when she finally took my bottom with her big blue dildo. The Thai Maid Chapter 6 Part 2 - On Submission ================================================================================ Reader, there are things I'd like to write for you. For instance, I'd like to write that Sir invites his colleagues over to the apartment, and makes me serve them drinks until one of them gets the nerve to smack my bare ass as I lean over to refill his bourbon. I'd like to write about his colleagues taking my mouth and my pussy until I am spent and soaked with cum and content to feel so desired. But those things didn't happen. As I said at the beginning, The Thai Maid is a true story and I have only included actual events. I fantasize often about X's colleagues, but we live in the real world and have to keep up appearances. With the exception of a single incident with a diplomat's wife, none of our professional acquaintances ever knew about my switching places with Miss. Before we entertain guests for dinner parties, I race around the house, madly cleaning up. Just before the first guests arrive, I quickly strip out of the French maid's outfit and Miss puts it on. And almost every time Miss picks the largest butt plug, a real ring stretcher, and forces me to wear it for the duration of the party. Sometimes our guests leave at the end of the evening, commiserating about the difficulty of hiring good help: Miss is not so subservient as she once was. It is hard for Miss and I to get into our old roles, and as a consequence we just don't interact with each other when guests are around. One time, a guest remarked I was a great hostess because I was always on my feet at dinner parties and never seemed to sit down. I wanted to tell him it was because I had a plug half the size of his hand up my backside, but I bit my tongue and just thanked him. So other than those tiny chinks in the armor, our privacy is intact. One of the reasons I shared this story with you, Reader, is so I can examine my feelings about the last two months and understand myself better. You can come to your own conclusions about me, and I assume you have, but I have decided something about myself: I am not a masochist. No, don't laugh. If I pinch my arm, I do not like the pain. If I had my way, I would have lazy mornings with Miss, rolling in soft pillows, whispering in her ear about my love for her, whispering lovely thoughts into her watermelon mouth, and stroking her hair as she kisses my pussy. I would hold her hand and we would go shopping outdoors together at Sunday market, and lounge in the sun on the patio. But I love my Miss, and this is not the way she has chosen to let me show my love for her. It's not that I like being spanked or humiliated per se, it's just that I am happy to let Miss use me as she wants. Would I be happier with long walks in the park instead of long fucks in the ass? No, not unless Miss wanted it that way. Does it surprise you to learn that I haven't asked Sir how much he planned from the beginning? I've often wondered if he hoped to provoke me into something like this when he first let me "catch" him getting head from Miss. Sir knows that I am anally erotic; how much did he tell Miss beforehand about my tastes? Or does Miss's mind just happen to run in the same grooves mine does? But these questions aren't truly relevant: I have never forgotten that * I was the one who went out and purchased the first butt plug; * I was the one who stuffed it up Miss's ass; and * I was the one who told her I would make her my slut. Everything that followed was my fault. I do wonder, though, if things would have turned out differently if I'd treated Miss with affection on that first day when X went away on business, instead of humiliating her and taking her picture. But if you asked me whether I would do things over again, the same way, my answer would be yes, yes, a thousand times yes. I would not trade a single session with Miss's blue dildo for all the money in world. Do I have regrets? Yes: I twice prevented Miss from sodomizing me with her blue dong. For that -- for denying her pleasure, for not having the courage to open myself completely to her, and for delaying my acceptance of my true nature -- I am ashamed. Once you love someone, how can you not be haunted by the opportunities to please her that you have passed up? I've also wondered why I fell so deeply in love with Miss so quickly. But I think the answer's a simple one: try getting fucked up the ass by a beautiful Thai maid who knows how to lick a pussy and see if it doesn't change your outlook on life. Some subtle things have changed. If I'm on the street or in the market and catch the smell of Durian fruit, I can't help thinking of Miss's anus. This usually sends me scurrying home, begging to lick her ass. Sir hardly ever touches me anymore. I think he has made love to me six times in the last few months. I can't blame him: Miss is a marvelously responsive lover, a gifted cock sucker, and she sleeps with him in the master bedroom. Sometimes I can hear their passion from across the apartment, and depending on my mood I either cry or touch myself, or both. On rare occasions, Sir will make me sit in the bedroom and watch them make love, but he seldom invites me to join in, unless it's to suck his cum out of Miss's backside while Miss masturbates -- this I do happily! Sir sometimes surprises me with his requests. Once he put us up to a cat fight, and told us the loser would have to do anything that Sir commanded. Miss won (naturally), and what Sir made me do was so humiliating I won't repeat it here. Miss found it very funny though. I'm not sure what will happen to my relationship with Sir when we leave this place; Miss's ownership of my self isn't limited by national boundaries. Still, I hope Sir and I can resume something like a normal relationship once we move, assuming anything can be normal after you've fallen in love with a beautiful Thai ass fucker. Still, we have something like a daily ritual, and it goes like this: Miss touches me sometimes, but usually she limits our contact to her blue dildo and my poor, battered anus. She rarely if ever initiates the ass-fucking, but makes me beg for it. This (begging) I do more often than I like to admit. It's hard to strike a balance: every time that monster plows my ass I feel like a virgin. I just can't get used to it, even after eight weeks. Since that first beautiful week, Miss has never again fucked my pussy with the blue dildo, and I'll take her attention any way I can get it. I love her a little more each time she lets me fetch the blue dildo. I get so desperately lonely when she ignores me. So I have to choose between an aching heart and an aching asshole. On most days, the heart wins and the rectum loses. It's not a bad trade. Worse, though, is Miss's taste for bondage. She delights in humiliating me in front of others, and once -- although I shudder to recall it -- she even figged me. Almost every time she takes my ass, she gives me an enema and sometimes a spanking. After I'm clean she hog ties me at the ankles and wrists with the leather cuffs. Depending on her mood she might pop a butt plug in my mouth (only after it's been up her ass or mine), but most days she likes to hear me beg for the dildo up my ass and wail once it's inside me, so she usually she keeps my mouth clear. Now that she treats me as her ass whore, she might as well act like a man: she seldom rubs my clit while she's butt-fucking me, so my pussy is starved for attention and I can't masturbate myself. Sometimes, but not every time, if I really relax and picture what Miss is doing to me and think about how much I love her -- when I surrender to the idea that the fullest expression of all I will ever be is a beautiful white woman with big tits and a sweet round ass who gets sodomized by her petite Asian maid only when I beg for it -- when Miss stuffs my face into the pillow and smacks the cheeks of my ass -- when I remember that the purest way of showing my love for Miss is a stretched anus and a rectum entirely packed with her fake blue cock -- when I remember how grateful I am to suck Sir's cum out of Miss's pretty brown asshole -- when I remember that I'm bound because I'm not worthy of even playing with my own pussy when Miss is fucking me -- when I remember all these things and Miss really gets a rhythm banging my ass and she leans over and whispers in my ear Vicky have pink asshole -- sometimes I climax so hard my head spins and I see stars, even though my pussy is empty and untouched. When Miss feels my body contract, when she sees my asshole spasm around the blue cock, she claps and laughs and loves the fact she can make me cum simply by sodomizing me. Her laughter is magic to my ears: she is happy, I am happy, and the soreness, the begging, the enemas, the Polaroids, the figging, the bondage, and the humiliation are all worthwhile. As I type these final words I am sitting on the bed with a laptop computer in the maid's room. The biggest plug (my choice today, and lubricated only with my pussy juice and saliva) sits snugly up my ass, and the blue dildo rests next to me on the bed. I don't know how many days I have with my Miss, my beautiful brown Bee, but I plan to make the most of them. I will go to her now, blue dildo in hand, and beg her to buttfuck me for her pleasure. I will cry, I will plead, I will crawl on the ground, and I will desperately hope she says yes. Wish me luck. The End of "The Thai Maid" The Thai Maid Chapter 7 - Notes from a Fan - Pleasure and torment with two beautiful Thai women (Dear Readers: When I lived in Thailand I fell under the spell of my beautiful Thai Maid named Bee. While "The Thai Maid" is a true story, it inspired many wonderful fantasies and emails from fans. This is the sexiest email I received, and I'm posting it as a story with the author's permission.) The Thai Maid Chapter 6 Part 3 ================================================================================ Bee and a girlfriend play footsie with you. It begins with a steamy bath. You shave one another's underarms, legs and pussies. It's powerfully intimate. You've never felt more feminine and sensual. The scents of teak wood, fine soap and excited females lace the air. The girls relax on a sofa and gaze knowingly at you. The atmosphere becomes more charged. You notice a small stand holding dildos, butt plugs, anal beads and lubricants. With intricate detail, the girls direct you though all kinds of anal exposure and self-manipulation. They masturbate but you are not to touch your pussy. It's a wicked mix of excitement and embarrassment. For anal beads, you are on the teak coffee table in front of the girls. They exchange excited words in Thai as each bead enters you and when they pop out. "Slowly, Victoria," Bee says. "Pull slowly." A short but thick pink dildo is last. It looks manageable but it helps make the most humiliating experience for you yet. It's rounded on both ends. One end has an attached pull chain. You are to insert the dildo and then excrete it back out into Bee's hand. The girls get very close to observe your contractions. The safety measure of the pull chain is unnecessary. By now, the urge to play with yourself is almost too much. The girls put you to work tonguing their anuses. You discover that Bee's friend uses whatever anus muscles there are to open her hole unbelievably wide. Your tongue slides deep inside her. How does she do that? What control! The girls bind your wrists and connect them to a rope from a hook in the beam in the ceiling. They attach your ankles to both ends of a pole so that you stand with comfortably spread legs. The girls pause to admire your sexy lean body. Its stretched and vulnerable, unable to escape whatever the girls may do. The two friends lie on their backs with their feet towards you, one facing you in front, the other behind you. Their heads rest on silk cushions, smiling mischievously as they regard you. Delicate feet rise, your breath catches, and the bizarre spectacle of being masturbated by two women's feet begins. The girl behind you massages your ass, distorting your cheeks and working her toes into the humid crevice of your bottom. She also saws her feet in between your nether lips. The girl in front uses her feet to stroke and prod your cunt. Eventually, a big toe, slick with excitement, snakes into your ass. It's long and narrow for a big toe, and it prods and wiggles powerfully. How can feet be so talented and dexterous? The girls pleasure you at their leisure, laughing and sharing giggles and comments in Thai as you get closer to orgasm. Are you incredulous, humiliated, excited? Isn't it demeaning to be coaxed to orgasm by two girls who use only their feet? You are like a fun toy to them. They're laughing at your torment, making comments only they understand about your reactions. You're getting closer to orgasm. Too close. They exchange words in Thai and withdraw their feet. Gasping in frustration, you try to squeeze your legs together to gain the slightest friction. Your jaws go slack. You look like a monkey in heat. The girls become giddy with conquest, jabbering in Thai while grinning at you. They ignore whatever you say and speak only Thai. They settle into a 69 in front of you, both peering at you almost the entire time, smirking, relishing your frustration. When they are satiated, the girls exchange more Thai while regarding your plight. You sense that the friend apparently wants to leave you frustrated. But Bee seems to convince her to continue with you. They settle onto their backs again, more relaxed now, their hands laced behind their necks. You are sweating. Your thighs are shinny with your juices. You moan and thrust your pelvis out for the rising foot in front of you. Moans. Ragged breaths and whimpers. But the friends are slow and careful now, practiced at this. It becomes clear that they have agreed to keep teasing and denying your climax. The girl at your pussy studies your face and body for signs of an approaching orgasm. The girls use slow and soft strokes, and then, exchanging quick words, they stop when you get too close. Your head jerks. You sputter. You hump the air and the rope above you creaks. At this, the girls quickly stand. The friends are exhilarated, bursting with devilish triumph. You usually tire of persistent teasing because your pussy can become unbearably sensitive. Not now. The girls' games are wickedly thrilling. The scene is edgy and wild and you are shaking with excitement. More breathless Thai conversation. The enthusiastic friends want to prolong the fun even more. They have you cool down a bit. They mop your face and give you a sip of iced tea from a straw and slices of mango. They're encouraging and cheerful, but you know it's only so they can toy with you more. They look at you appraisingly. "Her clit is stiff. Her whole cunt is swollen and inflamed. It's angry," Bee says in Thai. "Let's make it more angry," said the friend, and the two girls laugh. They lie down again on their backs. Much later, Bee kisses you deeply while pinching your nipples. She breaks away and watches you pant and sweat. She traces her finger along one of your raised arms, down your armpit and down your side. As hot as your are, the touch makes you shiver. Bee kisses you again and lightly places the back of her hand at your cunt. You try to hump it and she backs away. "You want happy ending? She asks in an exaggerated Thai accent. Her friend titters. You are confused and then mortified. Bee is deliberately mimicking the Asian hand job parlor girls. She is goading you, mocking the frustrated lust in you she helped create. You look away and chew your lip. Bee gently guides your head back and her eyes burn into yours. "Happy ending?" she repeats. "Yes? You want happy ending? Yes?" "Yes!" you hiss. "Happy ending. Please." Eventually, they allow your orgasm. They watched in awe and glee as you strain through the powerful spasms. They refresh you once again with fresh towels and tea. Your pussy is raw but you begin to regain your composure. Bee smoothes tendrils of damp hair from your face and kisses you deeply again. She slips away. A happy ending indeed, you think, exhausted, slack in the bindings. Bee returns holding an Hitachi vibrator with a head like a baseball . She plugs it in. She's grinning evilly. "Oh, God, Oh, God, No! Please!" you cry. "I can't!" Bee places one of the silk cushions in front of you and sinks to her knees on it. You've forgotten Bee's friend behind you. Your tense bottom cheeks are parted and her tongue plays at your anus. You sigh and Bee flicks on the powerful vibrator.... The End ============================================================================ More great stories at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/All-Stories-BnD