Now I’m the Cleaning Lady! By Throne (30 Pages) (Patreon)

Now I’m the Cleaning Lady!

By Throne

© 2019-2020 QoS Comix All Rights Reserved

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

NOW I'M THE CLEANING LADY 

by Throne

This was an especially demeaning episode for me.  I was nearly naked, as usual.  All I had on were stockings and heels.  My body had been hairless for a weeks, since the laser treatments.  Parts of me had been sprayed with liquid adhesive and had glitter sprinkled on them, so that my chest, tummy and thighs sparkled.  My full head of light brown hair had blond streaks all through it and was partly contained by a rainbow headband.  I was on my knees, on the back patio of the palatial home that had formerly belonged to me, facing two basket chairs.  In the chairs were Niecy and Shawna, two sexy Black girls, both of them naked.  And I was their humble and obedient servant.  Or maybe slave would be a better word.  Something made this scene more upsetting than what I was used to.  It was the first time anyone other than Niecy had seen me in my moneyless and feminized state. 

"So," Shawna wanted to know, "how did you end up with this fool's house and money and everything he used to own?  And having him all girly and drooling over your pussy?"

Niecy laughed.  "Well, you know how I used to be his cleaning lady.  So one day he got a message and had to call for a car to take him into the city."  She looked down at me.  "What was that about, again, pretty thing?"

I looked up at her.  Niecy is trim but with medium size breasts and a protruding bottom.  Her face is defined by high cheekbones and very full lips.  She wears her hair natural, leaves it grown in on top but keeps it shaved on the sides. 

To answer her question, I said, "The message was from a comic book dealer.  He had gotten a key issue I needed and..."

She waved me to silence and said, "Whatever."  Returning her attention to Shawna, she went on, "When my big boss was chasing after some funny-book, I decided to sneak a look around his bedroom.  It always made him nervous when I cleaned in there, so I knew there must be something hidden somewhere.  Turned out it was a diary, along with two keys.  The book had all this stuff he wrote about how hot I was and how he dreamed about my whatever he called it.  Oh yeah, my 'primitive sexuality'.  Ha!  And it turned out that he had this kink about seeing me but not being able to pull his pecker or anything when he was horny, which was all the time.  So he locked his joystick up in that contraption you saw on him."

"The thing-us on his dingus.  Right."

"So then I held onto the keys and diary, got him all upset, and threatened to leave him locked for good.  Turned out he had bought the top-of-the-line cage for his boy part.  No way to remove that contraption without a key.  And he was really stressing about me maybe showing that diary around.  There's all kinds of good parts in it, with him talking about getting his hands all over me.  He was even stupid enough to put in there how he's a virgin and just gets his thrills by stroking his bone when it's not locked up."

"He couldn't go out and get some woman?  With all his money?"

"No.  He's too shy and gets all tongue-tied when he tries to talk to one of them.  Even with his big house, fancy cars, imported wardrobe, and a crapload of money, he was a flop with the girls.  I started to mess with his head.  Got him naked and made him do my cleaning.  Hung around the house in my underwear to keep him all charged up, sex-wise.  And with that cock lock on, he just got more and more desperate, with a nasty set of blue balls."  She gave me a wide grin.  "Isn't that right, Snow White?"

"Y... yes, Ma'am," I answered in the soft voice she insisted I use.

"Then," Niecy went on,  I started using him as my boy toy.  Taught him how to give me foot rubs, massage my legs, eat pussy.  He hated having his mouth on my snatch, but pretty soon I got him to where he can't do without his daily meal of hair pie.  Isn't that right, cutie?"

"It is," I confessed.  The shameful act had become the center of my sex life.  And with her flaunting herself at me all the time while I was unable to gain relief, I wanted it more and more.

"What about the money part?" Shawna inquired, looking around her at the landscaped property.

"I got my cousin Marvin on the case.  He's some kind of financial whiz.  And he knows legal stuff, too.  Pretty soon, the kneeling sissy down there was signing anything we put in front of him, cause I kept hinting that it would get his precious dick unlocked.  Marvin acted like the paperwork was about getting me a few bucks or something.  So the jerk put his name on everything and at some point I owned more of his property than he did.  Marvin also saw to it that I could get my hands on the rest.  Made sure I had some kind of power of something.  By the end of six months, it was all mine, and this sucker was my naked girly pet.  How about that?"

Shawna peered at me and shook her head.  She was a few pounds heavier than Niecy, a shade darker, and wore her hair in a mass of short braids that stuck out in all directions.  After seeing how meek and subservient I was, she must have decided to test me.

The visiting woman said, "Let's go, Blondie.  My girl here says you give foot rubs.  Let's start with one of those."

I got my hands on one of her feet and began to manipulate it.  She sighed and let her head fall back.  For a while I worked on her, alternating from side to side.  Then she had me advance to massaging her legs.  That brought my face closer to the juncture of her shapely thighs and I could smell her feminine musk.  It got me salivating and I made a wet vocal sound when I tried to control my reaction. 

Niecy suggested, "Sounds like he's hungry for some dark meat."

"Right."  Shawna smirked at me.  "So get busy on my hot spot, pussy boy."

I rose up on my knees and rested my midsection on the edge of the chair, lowered my head, and got my mouth within an inch of her womanhood.   At that proximity, her pungent scent was overwhelming.  It made me whimper with both distaste and need.  As my tongue began its work, she sighed and let her thighs move further apart.  I did my best on her thick rubbery labia, smooth interior, and larger-than-Niecy's clitoris.  She squirmed her bottom and pulled my mouth more tightly against her wetness.  When I was briefly allowed to raise my face and catch a breath, I saw the other woman fingering herself. 

Niecy said, "He's kind of like a male lesbian."

"He goes at it like he's starving for snatch.  But he's got technique, too.  How did you ever get him to be so good?"

"Like I said, it's all about keeping his dick in that tight cage."

It was also about my entire sex drive being rerouted into oral service.  And about how anxious I was to please them so I could avoid punishments.  Niecy had spanked me to correct anything she considered a shortcoming, and that method was very effective.  Now Shawna squeezed my head between her thighs and pulled on my hair.  Though I was half smothered, I didn't stop, and even managed not to rush her climax.  When she orgasmed, her upper legs closed even tighter, and I had to suck in her excess fluids because they were so plentiful.  At last she released my skull from that vice of flesh.  I backed up and stayed there, like a dog up on its haunches, expecting a treat for behaving well.  She took a few deep breaths, sat up, and began fingering my nipples.  It was so stimulating that I gasped.  My arousal was pleasant at first, but then my penis got uncomfortable in its tight confinement, and my balls began to ache, a familiar condition since the cleaning lady took over.

Niecy made me move over and lap her for a few minutes, but then she restlessly got up.  When she went somewhere else, I thought I might get a break.  Maybe I would be left alone to occupy myself with the daily load of housework I was expected to handle.  But then the woman who had taken over my life returned and there were a collar and leash in her hands.  She fastened the former around my neck and clipped the latter to it.  I dropped to all fours and followed her as she led me around the patio.  Her round inviting bottom was directly in my line of sight. 

She told Shawna, "You got to get up, girl.  I want to show you how I mistreat my puppy when he's not slobbering over pussy."

"All right," the other girl said, sounding a bit worn out after being satisfied.  "I like the idea of making the little bitch suffer and squirm."

"Yeah, she does earn himself a lot of nasty treatment."

"I notice you call her all kinds of names.  Does she have a regular girl name?"

"No.  What would be a good one?"

"Well, what was her name before?"

"Used to be Wayne."

"So how about... hmmm... Winnie?  Or Wanda?  Or maybe Wendy?  Right.  Wendy is good."

"Ha!  I like that."

The women took a few minutes to don short belted robes and slip on high boots.  I was mesmerized by the shiny black leather, high arches, thick heels, and squared toes.  They were exotic but also practical.  Those boots were made for walking. 

Niecy gave a tug on my leash.  "Let's go, Wendy."

As she strolled on the grass, I struggled to keep up on hands and knees.  They went across the tennis court and I had to accompany them over the concrete.  The stockings gave no protection to my knees.  Then we started back toward the house, but at an angle.  I saw our destination and shuddered. 

"This," Niecy announced, "is the kennel.  I had it put in special just for my bitch doggie.  And paid for it with money that used to be his." 

Shawna looked at the adequately large enclosure and noticed the much smaller cage inside.  She wanted to know what it was for.  Niecy detached my leash and told me to demonstrate why it was there.  I opened the tall door to the enclosed space, went to the barred crate, got my bare bottom aligned with the open door, and began to inch backward into it.   It took some effort to squeeze myself into the limited space.  With the two of them watching, I pulled closed the door and waited while they observed how cramped I was, even having to pull my head back awkwardly. 

Niecy explained, "I can leave him the entire kennel to stay in, or I can make him get all scrunched up like he is and then padlock the door of that tiny cage."

"Damn," Niecy said.  "I'll bet he's real eager to please after you leave him all jammed into there for an hour or two."

"Or overnight.  Sometimes I sleep in the room right inside from there and leave the window open.  He can hear my TV, or music I play, and I like to talk to him sometimes.  I never get tired of reminding him -- Wendy -- about how much he's lost, and without even getting his dick set free."

I was ordered back out and had the leash reconnected.  Then I had to follow them along a path that was covered in small white stones that hurt my knees.  I knew the stockings were getting ruined.  Not that the woman who now owned me would care.  She could simply buy more.  And then mention how she was paying for them.  It always hurt me to be reminded that my own wealth -- or former wealth -- was being used to finance my new life.  Niecy led me into the surrounding woods.  It was like a bad dream, being nearly naked, feminized, and walked like a dog.  Niecy made me squat in a tangle of thorn bushes, which poked at my naked rear and the backs of my thighs.  She tied my leash to a sapling so that I couldn't move from that unwanted position.  I was well enough trained by then that I didn't even consider taking action when they wandered back toward the house, with Niecy saying something about them having a glass of wine.  I was left like that for nearly two hours.  Thoughts of what Niecy had mentioned, the enormity of what had been taken from me, filled my mind.  I shifted around on my high heels, calves and ankles hurting, while thorns jabbed at my unprotected scrotum.  Finally I saw them returning, now dressed in tight sleeveless tops, brief shorts, and sandals. 

As I was taken back to the house, the multiple scratches I had received began to itch.  Once indoors, I found a new job waiting for me.  The boots they had worn on our walk were dirty and it was my task to clean them.  Just my luck, she had read several of my diary entries in which I enthused about the sexy boots she sometimes arrived in, before she changed to something more practical for work.  I knelt in front of the discarded footwear while the women sat and turned on the big-screen TV.  When I looked around for something to use, Niecy chuckled.

She said, "Need something to polish them boots?"

"Y... yes, Ma'am," I answered meekly.

"Well, I found a rag for you to use.  It's under the sofa."

I peered into the shadows below the furniture and saw something there, far back.  On my belly, I reached for it.  Niecy rested her sandaled foot on the rear of my neck.  I groped around and came out with... oh no... one of my best dress shirts.  A designer one.  As I sat on the floor with my legs crossed and took the first filthy boot, I looked to her with concern.  Was she really going to make me do this?

"What's the matter, girl?" she wanted to know.  "Don't you know how to clean up them boots?  Are you too stupid for even a simple job like that?"

"N... no, Ma'am.  It's just that..."  I saw the futility of debating the issue.

Glumly, I began rubbing the side of the boot with the expensive cherished shirt.  Right away the snowy material was soiled with dust and dirt.  It was one more part of my male wardrobe that would be eliminated.  She told me to make sure I got the sole and heel, as well.

"Yeah," seconded Shawna.  "And do a damn good job.  In fact, you got to get that leather wet to pretty it up all the way.  Give it a spit shine.  Just lick that boot before you polish anymore."

Feeling sick, I extended my tongue and lapped up and down the side of the tall boot.  Then I resumed buffing it, removing even more dirt and assuring the destruction of that favorite shirt.  At the same time, after having seen those sexy females wearing the boots, there was a certain erotic dimension to what I was doing.  Without thinking, I pressed the top of the boot to one of my nipples and moved it up and down, triggering a sexual response.  My poor dick strained again to escape it's short and narrow prison.  I moaned and the women snickered.  Their attention returned to the TV, which was showing some reality show with people snapping at each other, while the host made a perfunctory effort to referee.  Just my luck there were hot women there, too.  I saw two curvy Hispanic girls get into an altercation and have to be pulled apart by tall, husky security guards with shaved heads. 

The feel and smell of leather started to obsess me.  I found myself caressing the boots.  Using my tongue on them even when I might have been able to skip that step.  I positioned one under my nose and inhaled the hint of sweat that rose from the inside.  Niecy and Shawna ignored me as I slipped into a perverted reverie.  It was shameful but I couldn't help myself.  At the end of their show I was oblivious to them.  They must have been watching me for several minutes, observing how I was sliding a boot up and down my smooth hairless chest, relishing the sensation of leather against skin. 

"You are one sick piece of work, little sissy virgin," Niecy suddenly snapped at me.

"A real head case," Shawna added.

I realized what I had done.  Hugging the boot, I sat there in my stockings with the knees gone, my heels, and the collar, knowing how I must appear as they looked down at me.  My face got warm, telling me I was blushing.  I muttered an apology but they just shook their heads and looked disgusted.

"Time for you to get back to your other work, Wendy," Niecy decided.

Finally I was allowed to get dressed, but all I was given to wear were a lacy maid's cap and a tiny matching apron that tied in the back with a big bow.  Niecy had a feather duster, except that it was attached to a belt that strapped around my head and buckled.  The end of the instrument's handle filled my mouth.  My former cleaning lady wrenched my arms around behind me and enclosed them in a leather sheath, which she tightened and fastened snugly.  My elbows were drawn painfully close to each other. My sense of helplessness was intense.  Niecy gave my nipples some more teasing and chuckled at how it made me dance around and moan through my gag.  My cock lock was driving me crazy.  Then she set me to dusting the large living room, while she and Shawna relaxed and sipped wine that used to belong to me, from fine glasses I had once owned, as they sat on furniture that I had selected and bought.  Their conversation turned to lunch and they decided to let me work while they watched another episode of that tawdry program, after which I could serve them a meal.  Niecy got on her phone and talked to someone about picking up food and driving it to them. The thought of yet another person witnessing my disgraceful downfall made my stress level rise a few more degrees. 

When their show ended I had been dusting non-stop for an hour.  At the start they directed me to concentrate on high and low areas but not much in between.  From all the stretching and bending I had a sore neck, back and legs.  I was allowed to get shakily to my feet and the duster was taken out of my mouth.  The hinges of my jaw hurt.  They freed my arms and I flexed them to ease the discomfort from my bondage.  Just as I was starting to relax, my doorbell rang.  I mean, Niecy's doorbell rang.  She snapped her fingers at me and pointed toward the entrance.  The last thing I wanted to do was answer it.  But any sort of hesitation or outright refusal would earn me a nasty punishment.  So I minced to the door, got my hand on the knob, and took a deep breath.  When I opened it I was confronted with a tall Black woman whose massive bust thrust out at me.  Her wide face was startled at first, but then lit up with a toothy grin.  She held two pizza boxes, with a white paper bag sitting on top of them.  As she thrust everything at me I took hold of the boxes and stepped back awkwardly on my heels.  The woman's waist curved inward and her hips flared out dramatically.  She had heavy thighs to match and large sturdy calves.  Her zaftig figure was shown off by the orange, contour-hugging, jumpsuit she wore, with its front zipper pulled down just enough to give a peek of her deep cleavage.  Her dark red boots rose to just below her knees. 

"Hey, girlfriend," Niecy called to her.

Shawna added, "How you doing, Maxine?"

The big woman breezed past me as she said, "Doing good, sisters.  Be doing better if somebody pays me back for this food."

Niecy made a show of peeling off half a dozen twenties and holding them out to her.  When Maxine protested that it was too much, my former cleaning lady explained that it was money she had taken from me, and that there was plenty more where it came from.

Giving me a smug look, Niecy wanted to know, "Ain't that true, Wendy?"

"Y... yes, Ma'am," I answered respectfully.

That must have struck the new arrival as very funny, because she laughed so hard she shook, making her heavy bust jiggle, obviously unconstrained by a bra.   Then she accepted the bills and looked straight at me as she stuffed them between her bounteous breasts. 

"I like what I'm hearing," Maxine enthused.  She sneered at me.  "And seeing.   A wimpy white-boy maid.  I could get used to that."

"You might have a chance to," Niecy said.  "But let's eat first.  And Wendy will serve us."

The women went to the spacious dining room.  They sat at the long table, but with all of them at one end.   I had to get three of my good china plates and put two slices of pizza on each.  Then I had to return with them on a silver tray and give one to each of the women, being deferential and including a curtsey with each delivery.  They laughed at my unmanly appearance, submissive attitude, and feminine mannerisms.  Next they had me open the paper bag, which was full of garlic knots, put those on a plate, and offer them around.  Then I was sent back to the kitchen for cans of beer.  Niecy had all the alcohol she wanted delivered, and was happy to pay for it with one of the credit cards in her name, that she paid off with money taken from me.  And she always tipped generously in cash.  Along with that, she loved to threaten to make me answer the back door next time the young, well developed driver arrived.  

After that I had to go and fetch several of my pocket squares.  Instead of protruding impressively from my jacket, they would now be used to clean and buff Maxine's tall boots.  To do that, of course, I had to crawl under the table.  As I slipped out of sight, the biggest Black female reached down and gave my right buttock a hard pinch, followed by her loud guffaw.  If she took that much pleasure in hurting me, what else might she do?  Under the table I was confronted by her large but shapely legs, encased in orange fabric, along with her boots, which were leather but rather worn.  As I began to clean them, damaging the handkerchiefs as I rubbed, she told the others that she'd gotten the boots at a thrift store.  Niecy and Shawna decided that it would be fun to go thrifting to buy some more girly things for me to wear. 

"And Maxine," Niecy went on, "you said you'd like to have a sissy like Wendy.  How about if you keep an eye on her while we go shopping.  Be a sissy sitter.  Might be a while, cause we'll be going to some expensive places, too.  I got all kinds of money to burn."

The woman whose boots I was industriously polishing told them, "Take as long as you want.  I'll be happy to sit Princess Snowdrop.  But it'll be more like sit ON her.  Haw!"

I shuddered to hear that.  My former employee bent to the side and lifted up the edge of the imported tablecloth.  She gave me a sadistic grin. 

Niecy told me, "Don't skimp none, Wendy.  Do Maxine's boots like you did ours.  Get some tongue action going."

My stomach turned over but I whispered, "Yes, Ma'am.  Certainly."

While she was still watching, I extended my tongue and ran it up the inside on one boot.  Maxine brought her lower legs together and held my head between them.  She adjusted her feet until it was my neck caught in that leather vice.  Her lower limbs were powerful and she applied plenty of pressure.  I licked frantically.  My nose began to run.  At the same time, unaccountably, my penis tried again to get hard inside it's cramped prison.  I whimpered.  My mouth was getting dry.  Even so, I couldn't stop myself from putting my hands on the outer sides of the boots and stroking them.  Niecy saw that.

She said, "Looks like the pansy pervert is getting into it.  Starting to have one of them fetish things.  First with our boots and now with yours.   I guess having your dick locked up and not being able to empty your balls can do shit like that to a guy."

"Sure," Shawna contributed.  "Especially if he's a weakling to begin with.  And thinks his cleaning lady is like a jungle Amazon."

"Say what?" Maxine interjected.

"Oh," Niecy told her, "my used-to-be boss..."  She put lots of emphasis on that hyphenated adjective.  "... he had a secret diary where he wrote fantasy crap about my cute tits and big booty.  Especially all the junk in the trunk."

"Well, hell," Maxine decided out loud.  "If he likes your ass, he's going to love mine.  More is better.  And I got a whole lot more."

There I was, on my knees, half naked, what little I did have on so girly, serving as a bootlicker for that full-figured Black woman.  Could I sink any lower?  The answer was yes as Niecy took two bowls and set them against the wall.  One got half filled with water, to which the women each added a little beer.  Shawna also checked the fridge and found a nearly empty jar of pickles.  She poured the remaining juice from that into the already unappetizing mix.  Then the three of them dumped their pizza crusts into the other bowl.  The remaining pickles went in there too.  Maxine checked the cabinets, where she found a jar of pearl onions and a can of black olives.  She opened both and added them to the increasingly sickening mess in the second bowl. 

"Now get over there, Wendy," Maxine snapped at me, taking the lead.  "Show us how a vanilla creampuff like you can eat all her dinner.  Get a move on, bitch."

I hurriedly crawled out from under the table and put myself in front of the bowls, still on hands and knees.  For long seconds I just looked down at the two disgusting offerings.  When Maxine came over and stood with a heavy leg on either side of my head, glaring down at me, I was paralyzed.  I looked up at her exaggerated curves and scowling expression.  Seeing the hopelessness of resistance, I lowered my head and lapped up some of the smelly stuff from the drinking bowl.  When I checked her again, she was still glowering at me.  With a shudder I got my face into the eating bowl and began munching on crusts, miniature onions, and those black olives that had always repulsed me.  With an effort I got several mouthfuls down.  Then I needed something to clear my throat, so I had to drink more of the water/beer/pickle juice blend. 

"Keep going, pink stuff," Maxine said threateningly.  "I want to see those bowls empty and all shined up by your tongue.  Just like you did for my boots, wuss."

By the time I had fully obeyed, my stomach was rolling.  She made me lap her footwear some more, then sat down and turned her chair to the side, so I could lick the soles and heels while the others watched and chortled at my abasement.  When she at last declared the job done, I was trembling.

"So," Maxine said to the others, "how about you two go and spend some of Vanilla Pudding's money?  I mean YOUR money.  Have fun and don't hurry back.  I want to break in this fool.  And take my time doing it."

"Sounds like a plan," Niecy approved.

"And we'll find her some more pretty things for Wendy to wear when we hit the thrift shop."

The three of them headed for the front door while I was left there with the taste of filthy boot bottoms on my tongue, my insides rebelling at the mess I'd been made to consume.  I heard them laughing and speaking just low enough that I couldn't make out the words.  Then Niecy and Shawna left.  I knew they would be taking my luxury sedan.  My former cleaning lady liked to use that car, now hers, when she shopped because it had such a large trunk into which to load her many purchases.  There she was with all my money, while I didn't have a cent.  And I wasn't allowed to use my male clothing for anything but dust cloths, cleaning rags, and now for boot polishing.  It was so awful to be kept naked, my hairless body and cock lock shown off.  It wasn't much better to be partly covered, because everything I was allowed to put on was overly feminine.  The front door slammed and I heard the wooden heels of Maxine's boots clacking against the front hallway's slate floor as she came back toward me. 

"Well, well," the robust woman said merrily.  "What are we gonna do first, Wendy White Bread?  I noticed how Niecy has you walking and talking like a proper sissy.  Let's see some runway action.  Go on now.  Strut around and wag that tail like a fashion model.  Then when I say 'STOP', you strike a pose.  Get to it, girl."

Frightened by that big intimidating female, I tentatively started walking.  Swished my bottom.  Held out my arms with my wrists limp.  Raised my chin.  As I circled the room she got out her phone, ready to take pictures.  All of a sudden she gave me the command I didn't want to hear.  When I halted it took me a half second to decide what to do next.  The last thing I wanted was to displease Maxine.  So I put my hands behind my head, laced my fingers together, puckered my lips, and stuck out my right hip.  She captured the shameful moment digitally and told me to start up again.  The next time I had to halt, I clapped my hands on my hips, turned sideways, and thrust out my bottom.  Again she saved the humiliating posture.  When she demanded more, I went into a deep squat for one picture.  Put my hand over my crotch and feigned modesty in the next.  Played with my nipples for the following one.  That last effort got me aroused and she took special delight in recording me with my nipples hard, wearing a pained expression because of my cock lock. 

"You are one fruity cutie," she said with a shake of her head.  "Now I got to teach you not to go round showing your powder-white ass off like that."

"B... but, you told me to do it.  That's not fair.  You can't..."  By the time I saw what a big mistake I was making and shut my mouth, it was much too late.

"Now I got to learn you two lessons.  Not to act like no white trash ho trying to sell her goods, and for sure to never sass me like that again."

I couldn't defend myself without getting into even more trouble.  That much was clear.  So I stood there meekly and mumbled an apology.  Maxine strode up to me, grabbed my ear and gave it a twist, then marched me into the kitchen.  She looked around for something.  I didn't know what she was searching for but I was sure that, when she found it, the results wouldn't be good for me.  First she opened a drawer and found a thick rubber spatula.  Then she went into one of the cabinets to grab a bottle of habanero pepper sauce.  That latter choice wasn't something of mine.  I don't like anything spicy-hot.  Niecy must have bought it. 

"Now stick out that back-talking tongue," Maxine snapped as she opened the bottle. 

Understanding what was about to happen, I was suddenly close to crying.  My body quivered as I stretched my jaws wide and extended my tongue.  She took her time putting several drops of liquid on her target.  Almost immediately it started to burn me.  She had me lick my lips and rub them together, to get it all over them, and then applied a second portion.  Soon my mouth was on fire inside and out.  I sniffled and, despite my best efforts, shed a few tears.  My cheeks were hot and I knew they had gotten flushed.  In the midst of my discomfort, I had a mental limage of myself looking more helpless and weak than ever. 

That was when she grabbed the back of my hair and bent me forward over the kitchen table.  Holding me like that, with my bare bottom thrust out, she raised the spatula and paused for several long seconds, while my dread rose to unbearable levels.  At the height of my anxiety she swung with terrible force, the kitchen tool making a fleshy sound as it smacked my bottom.  Maxine rained blows down on my defenseless posterior, causing me to squirm and holler.  I shifted my feet around but made no serious attempt to avoid the hard swats.  Holding onto the edge of the table, I wailed and wept as she kept swinging, making my rump feel like it was being roasted.  She finished with a series of blows aimed at the tender backs of my thighs, above the stocking tops.  At last she let go of my hair.  My knees buckled and I sank to the floor, my nose running, blubbering uncontrollably.

"There you go," she declared triumphantly.  "Now you sound just like a crybaby sissy.  Anything you want to say, Wendy Whitewash?"

"I... I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have acted so... slutty.   And..."  I couldn't contain a loud moan.   My mouth was so sore.   The pain in my backside and upper legs penetrated to the deepest tissues.  "And I'll never..."  My voice kept failing.   "... ever..."  I took a deep breath.   "... talk back to you again."

"That's more like it.  Now thank me for putting you on the right path." 

I got up on my knees.  Every movement cost me more pain in my sitter.  She was standing over me, broad dark face like a mask of erotic evil.  Her arms were crossed under her heavy bust.  I couldn't stop being aware of the width of her hips, fullness of her thighs, solidity of her calves with the boots shaped to them.  I dropped down and slavishly kissed the toes of her footwear.  All I could think of was appeasing her.  Turning my eyes upward, I was struck by Maxine's commanding presence, her towering image of dominant power.  It wasn't even possible to maintain eye contact, I was so totally defeated.  So I bowed my head once more and licked the fronts of her boots like the simpering abject submissive I now was.

After letting me continue to abase myself that way for a few minutes she simply walked away.  I was left with my sore tongue stuck out, feeling as foolish as I must have looked. 

"Let's go, Wimpy Wendy.  Bedroom.  NOW.  And don't bother getting up.  Crawling is just right for you.   Ain't that true?"

"Yes, Ma'am.  Yes..."  What would she want me to call her?  "Yes, Miss Maxine."

I followed her like that, not able to take my eyes off her wide, rolling rear end.  It was an exaggerated symbol of female sexuality, as well as a mesmerizing magnet for my pent-up lust.  But I was no longer capable of imagining myself having sex with a woman like her, who once would have attracted me in that way.  I couldn't entertain the fantasies that Niecy had previously inspired, as recorded in my diary, of having sex with such an ebony beauty.  I was too broken for that.  Too unmanned.  Instead, my thoughts were all of worshipping her intoxicating body, of giving her pleasure, and of expecting no reciprocation.  All I deserved from women like Maxine was their contempt and whatever abuse they wished to heap on me.  And the privilege of serving them. 

As I entered the bedroom she turned to face me.  With a smirk she lowered the zipper at the front of her jumpsuit.  Spreading the halves of the top portion, she bared her full, shapely, queen-sized breasts.  I stared at her hard nipples and wide areolas.  She withdrew her arms from the sleeves and let half the garment hang down behind her.  Then she sat on the edge of the bed.

"Now take off my boots, Wendy.  We both know how  much you love to touch them.  And what a freak you are for getting your mouth all over them."

I moved closer and began the task.  She was right.  I was responding by getting aroused.  It was so confusing.  Why was I turned on by boots?  And by the thought of being allowed to adorate her voluptuous form?  And especially by the possibility of paying special attention to her large, round, bulging posterior?  By the time I had her feet bared I was in a dither.  It was as if my free will had been removed.  I kissed the boots and gazed up at her, waiting for the next order.

"Well?" she said.  "Them pantlegs ain't going to pull themselves down.  Get to it, girl.  I know you want me all naked."

As much as part of me desired that, another part of me feared it.  With numb fingers I tugged at the bottom portion of her outfit.  She raised her wide bottom just enough to allow me to pull everything down over the edge of the mattress.  I worked the material the rest of the way over her legs and past her feet.  As I respectfully folded the garment and set it alongside her, she waited silently.  When I dared to look again, there was Maxine, her nude, chocolate-colored skin so smooth and inviting.  She moved her thighs further apart, so that I was staring directly at her pubic mound.  There was tight black hair at the top, a plump clitoris, rippled pink lips, and a moist interior.  I whimpered from the desperation of recently formed appetites. 

"Sissy like you," she told me, "ain't got no right to poke his little dick in a woman.  Sissy like you got to use his tongue instead.  It been long enough since I gave you a taste of pepper sauce."  She chuckled.  "Wouldn't want to burn my precious pussy.  So  how about you make some love talk to my puss.  Be asking her if it's okay to snatch a kiss.  Or kiss a snatch.  HAW!"

Utterly shamed, yet drawn on by irresistible urges, I brought my face closer.  The musky scent of her most intimate area made me dizzy.  It was too strong.  Almost offensive.  Even so, I couldn't stop greedily inhaling it. 

In a trance, I murmured, "Please, Miss Maxine's pussy.  May I kiss you?"  This was so different from the private wishes I had written about in my diary.  I brushed my lips against her slightly sticky labia.  "Please let me.  I want to do it."  Was that true?  My heart was racing.  "I really do."

"Sure."  She said it so casually.  "Help yourself.  Eat all you want, Wendy Wet Lips.  Just don't stop before I've had enough of what I want.  Otherwise I'll do something a lot worse than going after your mouth with the hot sauce, and turning your pale booty red like I did.  Understood?"

"Y... yes, Ma'am.  Thank you, Miss Maxine."

I had given Niecy enough cunnilingus, and had my one experience with Shawna, to know what to do.  Maxine gave me further instructions in a breathy whisper, which became more agitated as my proficiency grew.  She had me sucking her oversized clitoris, probing with my tongue, nibbling on her fleshy labia.  She produced plenty of fluids, which I found myself hungrily swallowing.  Her heavy thighs closed on my head and she had a shuddering climax, during which I was afraid I might suffocate.  Then she started me over again.  She had another orgasm rather quickly but after that, as she laid back and told me to take my time, it took longer to coax her to each finish, of which there were three more.  By the end she was purring contentedly.   It seemed like my mouth was now owned by her genitals.  I felt weirdly pleased, as if I had fulfilled the central purpose of my new life. 

Maxine pulled her legs up onto the bed, stretched out, and rolled onto her tummy.  She sleepily told me, "Get on up here, pussy licker.  We going to take a nap.  You can use my ass for a pillow.  Get your face on it, girl.  Nose in the crack."

Putting myself into that demeaning position, I lay still, not wanting to disturb her.  She brought her legs closer together, pinning me between them.  I got my nose where she wanted it and dared to place my hands on her hips.  Without being told to, I snuggled my features further down into the valley of her rump, breathing in its earthy aroma and feeling its sweaty stickiness.  I was under her spell.  She drifted into sleep.  I remained awake, trying to sort out my emotions, but the effort failed.  Rational thought eluded me.  I just pressed my face deeper into its warm shelter and felt my penis straining against its cock cage.

I remained like that for what seemed to be two hours.  Eventually I heard Niecy and Shawna come through the front door of the luxurious home I no longer owned.  Maxine stirred. 

The big woman said, "Got to get up now, Wendy.  Give my rosebud a kiss goodbye."

I pursed my lips and did as I was told, then sat up.  Maxine stood and got back into her jumpsuit and boots.  The others entered the room.  They had bags of purchases.  First they showed off the expensive clothes they had bought themselves.  Then they revealed fancy boots they had each gotten, along with a pair for Maxine.  Next there were hoop earrings and lots of bracelets.  Finally came two bags from the thrift store.  Those cheap items were for me.  They included a short filmy robe, a bed jacket, an orange beret, and miscellaneous tops and bottoms.  I had to strip naked and slip into a satiny nightgown.  Somehow it seemed natural to be wearing it.  The women relaxed in the living room with glasses of wine.  I sat at Niecy's feet.  That felt right, too.  Maxine gave them a brief account of our time together, complimenting me on my attentive use of my mouth between her legs.   She showed them the pictures she'd taken, which made me blush bright pink all over. 

"While we was out," Niecy announced, "Shawna had a good idea."

"Yeah," said the other shopper.  "How about if you went to work here as another house cleaner, Maxine?"

"What for?  You already got a sissy you can push as hard as you want.  And what do I want with working alongside Wendy?"

"Not like that," Niecy told her with a sly look.  "We was thinking you could be more of a supervisor.  No work for you.  Wendy could do it all.  Your job would be to keep her lazy ass moving along." 

"That's different," Maxine said, her full lips forming a smile.  "I can see me being in charge of your Sissy Missy.  Course, I'd be a real slave driver."

"For sure," Niecy encouraged.

"And there'd have to be break time for Wendy to take care of my puss."

"And for you to get her all excited, so we can be sure her cock lock is still working and she can't lose her virginity."

The three of them saw how difficult that program could be for me.  But Maxine also knew how much control she had exerted over my mind in just one session.  I understood about that too, and it scared me to think how much further she might take it if she accepted the offer.  I shuddered with trepidation and anticipation.  It was as if I had been unmoored from my old self and was drifting free, unable to choose my direction, waiting for a strong hand to steer me. 

Maxine decided, "If you put it that way, sure, I'll take the job.  Hell, I'll even be a live-in.  Would be nice to have Wendy on call in the middle of the night for special duty.  Let me run home in a little bit and get a few things, so I can start tonight."

"Sounds good," Niecy told her.

"And we'll need regular reports about how it's going."

"Well damn," Maxine said.  "The proof will be in what a changed girl Wendy will turn into real soon.   You just wait and see."

She snapped her fingers and I wriggled over to her on my belly.  Maxine pointed to my head and then to a spot under the wingback chair she occupied.  I got my head under the chair and felt the bottoms of her boots settle onto my back.  It all of a sudden seemed  natural that I would wear a nightgown and she should use me for a footrest.  I knew that there would be plenty more of that sort of treatment to come.  It terrified me.  But my hairless body tingled all over and my puny dick strained against its confinement.

*********