My Neighbor’s Submissive Ch. 04

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


Chapter 4 – Elevating the Game

Nothing was easy. When I arrived at my house, I was in discomfort from head to toe. My jaw ached from stretching to accommodate Edmund’s cock. My neck and shoulders issues steady complaints about their mistreatment at having my arms stretched above them. My back was sore from bending over so much while cleaning Edmund’s house. My legs and feet were suffering from a long day in heels. But none of those maladies could hold a candle to my ass. After I removed my wig, uniform, heels, and everything else, I turned to catch sight of my fiery, striped ass in the mirror. There was no blood, but there was no place that wasn’t some shade of red, from deep crimson to pink. It was sore to the touch. Even the spray of water from the shower stung. There would be no comfortable sitting, nor sleeping on my back for several days. As I showered, I pondered the day’s events. My second day in Edmund’s service had seen me on the defensive from the moment I awoke. I’d been his servant, sissy maid, and bathroom attendant. I’d worshipped his ass, been mouth fucked, and received a facial. I’d done his editing, and failed him. I’d asked for and received the strongest punishment of my life, and my pain crossed the threshold into pleasure and back into pain. We ended our time with his beautiful cock depositing another load of cum into my mouth.

There was something addictive in his semen, I thought. Though I’d consumed my own on a number of occasions, I never felt the need for more. But with Edmund, the taste of his cum was so amazing, and the warm feeling that washed over me as I swallowed it had me hooked as though it were a drug. I told him I would do anything for him. His response was ominous. “You will, indeed.” I looked again at my distressed posterior and decided that the marks were badges of honor, physical proof of my dedication to my new Master, and my new life. My little clitty was all hard again, and a few strokes brought my meek orgasm forth. I watched as my pathetic little squirt rode the water stream into the shower drain.

While drying off, I considered my situation. I had the ability to walk away, to use my safe word and end this game we were playing at any time. I thought that I had that control, and so I felt safe continuing. It was a challenging day, but a rewarding one. I wanted it to continue, I wanted to go further, and see what was around the next bend. No, wanted is not the right word. Needed is. I needed to continue. I needed to submit to Edmund. I needed to please him. I needed his cum. Stopping was out of the question. I went to bed grimacing from the pains, but smiling from the pleasures and excited for what lay ahead. I slept deeply.

The next morning, I awoke at five, having set my alarm. I showered quickly, shaved and applied make-up, and the rest of my feminine attire, a light green skirt and flowery top, showing off my legs and bare arms. I sauntered to his driveway, retrieved his paper, not caring in the least who might see me, and let myself in with the key he’d given me the day before. Quietly, I made my way into his kitchen and prepared his coffee. At precisely six, I knocked gently on his bedroom door.

“Come,” he called. I entered, setting the tray on his night table, pouring him a cup as he liked it. No, greetings, just me doing my tasks, and him expecting it. He flipped his covers off, exposing his naked body and his morning wood, a mighty ebony trunk, all proud and gorgeous.

He started reading as he sipped, and casually said, “Take care of that, marissa.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” I knelt on the floor and began, taking his massive specimen in my tiny hands, then applying my lips, mouth and tongue. It was difficult, though from the angle.

“Climb on the bed to do the job correctly, marissa.”

Acknowledging his permission, I knelt between his legs and resumed my worship, licking the shaft, swirling my tongue around the head, teasing the frenulum, sucking him, slathering his balls, everything I knew how to do, mixing it up and doing so with genuine enthusiasm. I felt him expand and tense up, but he just kept reading his paper. Without a word, and without stopping his reading, he came hard in my sissy mouth. I swallowed his incredible seed, and kept suckling him until he was soft, while he ignored me.

We stayed like that for minutes, until he decided to rise from bed.

“Press my shirt and trousers, and polish my shoes while I am in the bathroom, marissa.” I set to work on them, and strove for perfection. The toilet flushed and the shower ran as I worked. When it shut off, and I was already waiting, on my knees, to hand him a towel. It was warm. I’d used the iron to warm it just before he finished. He smiled. I was so happy that I’d made him smile. I drank in the sight of his beautiful body. I was hoping for a repeat of yesterday’s’ homage to his ass, but he did not offer it.

He dressed in the other room as I remained kneeling on the bathroom rug, eyes Pendik Grup Escort cast down, awaiting further instruction. He re-entered and lifted the toilet seat lid. The sound of his strong stream filled the room. I watched. He had no issues pissing in my presence. A powerful flow that seemed only appropriate to his manliness. He seemed proud of it. When he finished, and before he zipped up, he walked over to me. Without a word, he held the tip of his cock to my lips. It had a drop of piss at the opening, which I happily removed. Truth be told, I wanted more. I wanted to take him in my mouth again. I followed his lead, however, and went no further than he took me.

Pulling away and zipping up, he said, “I have a late night, tonight, so I will not need you again until tomorrow morning. However, tomorrow night, I will require your services for the entire evening, so make yourself available.”

“Yes, Sir, I will.”

“After you clean the bedroom and bathroom, let yourself out,” he said as he started to walk away, he stopped and turned around. “marissa, did you play with your little clitty last night?”

“Yes, Sir,” I replied, red-faced.

“Don’t do that anymore. It’s selfish. No more orgasms without my permission. Is that clear? Promise me.”

Stunned, but with no other feasible response, I replied, “Yes, Sir. I will not play with my clitty any more, unless you permit it. This I promise.” I heard the garage door close as I set about wiping down the shower and sink. He hadn’t flushed, leaving that for me to do. There were a few drops of piss on the rim of the toilet bowl. Obviously fresh, and I’d just cleaned the toilet yesterday. I licked the rim of his toilet, just to taste his piss. I put my face into the bowl, not all the way, mind you, but far enough such that the aroma of his urine filled my nostrils. I stayed there for several minutes, breathing in the scent of his discharge. The thought occurred to me what an image I must be making, but I didn’t care. I was intoxicated by the aroma. Finally, I knelt up, flushed, and sanitized the bowl again. I wiped down the shower and vanity, straightened his bedroom, making the bed and picking up the clothes he left on the floor.

After making my way home, I wondered how I would make it through the rest of the day without him. I logged on and buried myself in my work, remaining as marissa the whole time. It occurred to me that I hadn’t dressed as a male in over two days. I saw no point in doing so any time soon. That evening I gave my own house the needed attention that I’d been giving Edmund’s. I went to bed early and was up again at five the next morning. Remembering it was trash day, I put my own and Edmund’s bins near the curb, not needed to ask or be told. Inside, the scene from the previous day repeated. I sucked his cock while he drank his coffee and read paper. My regular doses of his cum were definitely increasing my obsequiousness. The bathroom ritual changed. This time, after the shower, I dried his body. I kissed his feet reverently, and he allowed me to tongue his asshole for a short while. Although he enjoyed it, he controlled the action, and I was left yearning for more.

Before he left for work, he had me kneel next to the toilet while he pissed. I watched with fascination as his powerful stream flowed, reminding me of a fire hose. He was partly engorged too, as a result, I suppose, of my earlier ass worship and also now my being made to kneel and watch. He stopped the flow suddenly, and turned in my direction, putting the head of his cock between my lips.

“Hold still,” he commanded.

After a few seconds, the warm, salty, somewhat acrid taste of his piss flooded into my mouth. It was not pleasing like his cum, but it had a strong psychological effect on me. He’d stopped short of finishing in the bowl, so he could feed me, so he could degrade me further, so he could exert his will over me. The level of my debasement apparently knew no bounds. I moaned as my mouth filled. Submitting to him in any manner turned me on immensely. He stopped and I swallowed. He filled my mouth two more times, and I swallowed, growing more accustomed to the taste. I kissed the tip of his cock as he withdrew.

“Thank you for allowing me to drink your urine, Sir. It was inside your body, and is now inside mine. I am grateful for your gift.” I meant it. It seemed that any method of worship was a method I would embrace.

“There are some drops on the rim,” he stated matter of factly.

I looked at him for a moment before bowing my head to the task. He watched as I licked his toilet rim, as I had the previous day, taking in the drops that he’d likely put there on purpose. I basked in the humiliation. I also noted to myself that in my state of submission, I would probably do any act he commanded. However, these acts involving his piss and his ass were always safe. He was careful about that, and I was grateful that he used good judgment.

Before he left, he Pendik Manken Escort said, “I’ll be home at six tonight. Come over at five, and follow the meal preparation instructions on the kitchen table. Have it ready by seven.”

I was left to his menial tasks once more. I cleaned his bedroom and bathroom, motivated to keep the latter spotless. I also thought I’d straighten up the kitchen before returning home. I read the instructions. I was to make vegan Cream of Mushroom soup, Farro Risotto with Butternut Squash and Kale. I decided I’d better ensure he had everything. I found it all, except he appeared to be out of vegan butter. I made a note to buy some. No need to burden my busy Master with these trivial issues. I thought a Chardonnay would pair up nicely with it, and I put a bottle I found in his wine rack into the refrigerator. The last instruction was to set the table for two. I was excited for the opportunity to dine with Edmund, and I left his house with a spring in my step.

The reader might suppose that I misread the clues, but such a thought did not cross my mind. I spent most of the day in lace panties, a matching bra, my breast forms, feminine shorts a V-neck tee, my auburn wig, some light makeup, faux-diamond stud earrings, and ladies tennis shoes, working in my study. At noon, I remembered that I need to buy vegan butter. Rather than change, I decided to just go to the store as I was, sans the wig and breast forms, figuring no one would notice or care. I wore a ladies baseball cap, covering the crease that my wig leaves on my forehead, and went to the nearby healthy food market. I was searching the aisles, when a young lady, pretty green eyes, auburn hair and a healthy figure, maybe twenty years young, asked if I needed help. I told her what I wanted, and she took me to it. As I crouched to pull it from the bottom cooler shelf, I realized she could see my panties. I stood up, quickly. She just smiled, and took in the rest of my outfit. “Those clothes look cute on you, and I have a pair of those same panties. And I like your earrings,” she whispered.

I blushed profusely, having forgotten I was wearing earrings. I muttered a thank you, embarrassed and at the same time relieved that she accepted my appearance. I smile on my way home, and made a note to visit that store again. Around four-thirty, I finished up my work and started to get ready. I did my usual shower, shave, trim and makeup, paying close attention to my eyebrows, tweezing them further and using my pencil to shape them. I thought I would wear something basic in which to prepare the meal, and then change to a more formal and sexier outfit for dinner.

As I was making my selection, my phone buzzed. “Bring some lingerie, but be wearing what I laid out in the second bedroom before I get home,” was the message. I felt like we were thinking along the same lines, and that made me smile. So, I just put my panties, bra, breast forms and the clothes I was wearing earlier. I would change over there as instructed. I packed some makeup for a touch-up later. I also packed a black babydoll, fishnet stockings and garter. I retrieved his mail and trash bin at the street. Inside, I began the meal preparation and table setting. I had a lot of time and it wasn’t difficult. By five-thirty, all that was needed was the cooking itself, and since it wouldn’t take more than 30 minutes, I decided to refrigerate everything and then go and see what pretty dress might await me.

Well, it was a dress, I suppose one might argue. But the better term is uniform. It was black, satin, full length, with lots of white lace trim, and definitely fit for a maid. A maid with a fetish for bondage, that is, as I discovered when I started to put it on. Although the skirt flared at the bottom, at the knees it was quite restrictive. The puffy sleeves ended above the elbow, so at least I’d have good are movement. Of course, it had a lock, and did the six-inch stiletto heels, which required quite a lot of maneuvering to put on and lock, given the skirt restrictions. The last items caused me to gasp when I first saw it. A pale white sissy mask and a black shoulder length wig. So much for the makeup. I pondered the situation. I would be making and serving dinner to Edmund and a guest. I would be wearing a mask. I would be exposed as his sissy, and yet anonymous. As disappointed as I might have been that I was not his date for the evening, this new level of kink was really pushing my buttons. He knew me so well.

I moved in small steps across the bedroom, and took great care, and a great deal of time, coming down the stairs. I was just getting started in the kitchen when Edmund came in. He smiled and said, “You look like a proper servant in that uniform, marissa.”

“Thank you, Sir,” I replied. The mask covered my face, leaving sufficient openings for my eyes, and the mouth opening easily accommodated speaking.

Inspecting my work, he seemed satisfied with my progress. “My guest will Pendik Masöz Escort arrive at 6:30. He is a potential client. I was going to take him to a restaurant, but I decided this would be better. I want him to see my power over you, for reasons you do not need to know. I expect your service to be flawless. Do everything required and everything I command eagerly and without hesitation. Is that clear?”

“Very clear, Sir.”

“Bring a scotch, the Highland Park, neat, to me in the den, greet Mr. Karlsson when he arrives, take his coat, lead him here, and then see to his drink and get back to your dinner preparations.”

I acknowledged the commands and brought his drink, an 18-year-old single malt that looked and smelled fabulous. In case the reader is wondering, I still curtsied each time I came and went, I just don’t mention it each time, so as not to bore you with repetitiveness.

I was back in the kitchen for about ten minutes when the doorbell rang. I moved quickly to answer, forgetting the sight that I must be, until I opened the door, and the man standing there looked quite surprised. Stunned, actually.

“Good evening, Mr. Karlsson, welcome to Mr. Greenville’s home. My name is marissa. Please come in and allow me to take your coat.” I said all these things quickly and confidently, realizing that of the two of us, he was the more uncomfortable, and I knew I had to act quickly to put him at ease.

“Mr. Greenville is in the den, please follow me,” I said, leading him through the house to where his host was waiting. I felt his eyes burning into my ass as I walked ahead. The two men greeted each other as old friends who’d been out of touch for some years. Edmund gave me a signal, and I asked, “Mr. Karlsson, what may I bring you to drink?”

“I’ll have what he’s having,” he replied.

“Very good.” Turning to Edmund, I asked, “Sir, may I refresh your drink?”

“Yes, marissa.”

As I was returned, I could make out the tail end of the conversation, “yes, all of that in four days. Preparation pays off.”

Mr. Karlsson was more relaxed now, and I saw the smile on his face as he eyed me up while I served the drinks. He himself was about the same age as my Master, five-ten, with the build of a soccer player, not overly muscular, but very fit. Blonde hair and steel blue eyes (and his name) gave away his Scandinavian ancestry.

I returned to the kitchen to finish the preparations. At seven, I announced that dinner was served, and the two men took their places. After serving the soup and pouring their wine, Edmund dismissed me to the kitchen. After a short while, I heard a bell ring in the dining room. I’d not seen one there, but I suppose he had placed it nearby at some point. I came in, cleared their bowls, returned with the main course, refilled their wine, and paused. Edmund dismissed me with a hand-wave, without looking.

A while later, the bell called me back, I responded to a command for seconds and more wine. I was pleased that they were enjoying the meal. I was not dismissed this time, and stood off to the side, awaiting any needs they might have. The conversation continued as though I was not there. Lots of legal and technical terms, most of which I didn’t recognize. It seemed to be going very well from the tone and occasional laughter.

They retired back to the study for more conversation, and another drink, while I tended to the kitchen. I was hungry but there was no time to eat just now.

The bell rang from the den this time.

“marissa, Mr. Karlsson has some questions that I’d like you to answer.”

“Of course, Sir. Mr. Karlsson, what would you like to know?”

“Are you a man or a woman, marissa?”

Mr. Karlsson, genetically, I am male, but I am no man, certainly not like Mr. Greenville or you. Nor am I a woman. I am not worthy of such a title. Women are strong, they bear children. That is not who I am. I am a sissy, Sir.”

“I see. Edmund says you’re getting good a sucking cock. Are you?”

“Sir, I am pleased to hear that. I have only been sucking his cock for a few days, and I feel that my technique is better, but there is room to improve.”

He looked at Edmund, who nodded. “Perhaps we’ll see about that. Tell me, marissa, what else have you done for your Master?” Mr. Karlsson asked.

“Sir I’ve done a series of domestic chores, including..”

“marissa,” he interrupted, “I’m sure you have, but those are not what I’m referring to. You know what I mean.”

“I do, Sir, but it is difficult to discuss.” I looked at Edmund’s stern face.

I swallowed my saliva and my pride, “Sir, also I worshipped his feet, and his ass. This morning, Mr. Greenville fed me his urine, and I drank it. I also asked for and received punishment for failing him.”

Mr. Karlsson smiled. “I see. Is there anything you won’t do for Edmund?”

“I do not believe there is, Sir. I have a safe word, and although I suppose if my Master asked me to harm someone, I would use it, Mr. Greenville is a good man, and I trust him completely, so if he gave me a command, I cannot imagine not following it.”

“So, if he told you to suck my cock..”

“Absolutely, Sir.”

“And if I told you?”

“I would follow my Master’s direction.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32