Andrea Sade
I faced Lance, Master of Hayward Manor, my pussy so wet. I wanted him to strip out of his gray slacks, white shirt, and gray blazer. He had seven women with him. A group of maids with him all in the skimpiest French maid uniforms imaginable. Puffy skirts that left most of their legs bare which were clad in white thigh-high stockings and garters.
They came in a variety of colors. The girl standing beside him, who also wore a glove on her right hand to her elbow, had a yellow one. Her brown hair spilled around her face, a wedding ring gleaming on her bare, left hand. It matched his.
A wife. He brought his wife to me. He truly wanted to be humiliated.
"I said strip, piggy," I said, a purr rising in my throat. I loved humiliating men. I detested them. Filthy creatures who were so desperate for a woman in their lives, they would let me whip them, spit on them, berate them. I had men who sent me money over the internet in exchange for me sending them videos where I called their dicks small and their bank accounts smaller.
Men who went into debt just to flood me with money. My little pay piggies.
"If you don't strip, I'll have to punish you most severely," I continued, wearing my corset and thigh-high boots. My tits were out. My pussy dripping wet and exposed. All the things my clients wanted to touch but couldn't. I smacked the riding crop into my hand. "I'll make you so pathetic in the eyes of your maids and your wife that they'll never touch you again.
Two of the maids, as young as him with orange garters, moved before me. They looked to be sisters, one with red hair and the other auburn, her nose pierced. They looked me over, their green eyes flicking over me.
"You're not here to dominate me," Lance said, his voice strong. "You're here to dominate her." He pointed to the auburn hair maid with the nose piercing. "This is Izzy. She will tell me if you're any good, Andrea."
I arched an eyebrow. "Mistress Andrea."
"We'll see," he said. "Now dominate her. Let me see your skill."
This man held such power. I could feel it radiating out of him. A shiver ran through me as I glanced at Izzy. I did like dominating women, too. I didn't do it for money but for pleasure. I had a stable of dykes that worshiped me. They could touch me. Eat my pussy. Lick my asshole. I would fuck them with strap-ons or shove vibrators up their assholes. I would have fun with them.
"Strip, you worthless cunt," I said.
A shiver ran through her as she reached behind her and unzipped her dress. She pulled that off her head, revealing her round breasts, both her pink nipples pierced with silver barbells. She was in great shape. Flat stomach. Toned legs. My eyes flicked down to her pussy. Shaved. Tight slit.
She put her hands behind her back, her legs apart, back straight. Inspection pose. I walked around her and was delighted to see her hands were not clasped behind her back but rested open palm. She knew what to do.
I flicked her rump with the riding crop, loving the stinging sound. She shuddered, her firm tits quivering as I marched around her. I smiled in delight and backed up into my office, crooking my finger at her.
"Follow, Slave," I said as the other maids watched, especially the red-haired sister. She moved off to the side to observe. Lance stared at me, too, his eyes intent.
I didn't like having him here watching me enjoy a woman, but she was his. That was obvious. Those garters on their thighs. I ordered her to strip, but she didn't take that off. Very, very interesting. Could I get her to take it off?
My pussy clenched at the idea as opened my cabinet full of all my toys. Cuffs, floggers, spreading bars, ropes, whips, riding crops, paddles, a few dildos and butt plugs. I didn't have many sex toys here in my office. What I did was legal so long as there was nothing sexual going on. So long as I only whipped and humiliated the men. I couldn't peg them or anything.
Not that I wanted to touch them. They were all so perverse. Just getting whipped by me was enough for some very wealthy men. I drew out a pair of fuzzy handcuffs. And held them to her. I thrust them forward.
"Cuff yourself. Behind your back."
"Yes, Mistress," she purred, her voice silky smooth.
She snagged the cuff and slapped one end over her wrist. It was pink. I liked using pink on manly men. Relay humiliate them. Degrade them in any way. I had collars, too. Even a choke collar. Just a little fun. I wouldn't endanger them.
Then my fun would be over.
She put her hands behind her back and ratcheted the other cuff closed. She stood there proud, her tits quivering. She stared at me with submission and the... defiance. Like she wanted to see what I really could do.
"Would you ever take off that garter?" I asked her as I seized her by a fistful of hair.
"No, Mistress," she moaned. "I can never take that off. Even when I bathe. When I shower. It stays on me. It's my proof that I am a maid of Hayward Manor, that I am bound to Master Hayward. I will never remove it."
"We'll see, my dirty, little sow," I purred and dragged her to my desk. I threw her over it.
I had a big, wooden desk just for bending piggies over and spanking. Her butt-cheeks quivered. I rubbed the riding crop on her, the others watching. My pussy dripped with their attention. A wave of heat rushed through me as I caressed her rump with the end.
I drew back.
CRACK!
The dirty sow bucked on the desk, her rump clenching. A welt blossomed on her asscheek. She whimpered from the pain. I stroked my finger over her welt, admiring the paleness of her ass. The beauty of her curving butt-cheeks. She sucked in a hissing breath.
"Will you remove your garter for me?" I purred.
"Never," she hissed.
CRACK!
The riding crop landed the moment she denied me. She gasped again, her back arching. A second beautiful stripe welted across her ass. I loved the puckered redness. My pussy quivered. A woman's striped ass was more beautiful than any Jackson Pollock painting.
"How many stripes can you endure before you break and beg me to rip it off you?" I purred.
"The riding crop will break on my rump before I do," she said with such fierceness. Such loyalty.
CRACK!
She hissed in pain, my pussy clenching. Juices ran down my thighs. The spicy aroma of her pussy filled my nose. I breathed it in, reveling in that flavor. It was a thing of beauty. I loved that scent. I savored that aroma filling my nose. It was such a beautiful thing.
CRACK!
"Never!" she squealed, her butt-cheeks clenching. "I will never beg! Keep whipping my ass, Mistress! Make it burn!"
CRACK!
"Yes!" she moaned, her butt-cheeks crisscrossed with red welts. Her pussy wept juices. The cream spilled down her thighs. She quivered there, her tongue stud clacking against the back of her teeth.
I did love a tongue stud.
CRACK!
"Break your riding crop on my ass, Mistress!"
CRACK!
"Break it!"
CRACK!
Her defiance had my pussy burning. Her juices reached her orange garter, the cloth soaking up her juices. Her outer folds parted ever so slightly to reveal her pink inner depths. Her cunt begged to be abused. I licked my lips and flicked my riding crop out.
CRACK!
"Mistress!" she howled, her head throwing back as a red welt blossomed over her pussy lips. "Never! Never! Fucking never!"
CRACK!
She whimpered into my pussy again.
"Never!"
CRACK!
I abused her pussy lips. They reddened from the riding crop's affection.
CRACK!
"I am Master Hayward's maid!"
CRACK!
"His slut!"
CRACK!
"I would die for him!"
CRACK!
"I love him!"
Her pussy juices gushed down her thighs, soaking her welted vulva. She bucked through her orgasm, squealing out like a dirty sow. I shuddered at the sight of her cumming from being whipped. A wave of heat rushed through me.
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