10 comments/ 140355 views/ 35 favorites The Thai Maid Ch. 01 By: victoria.vixen "Miss have pink asshole." A voice giggles. Again, "Miss have pink asshole." I'm groggy and confused, waking from what feels like a very deep sleep. I blink my eyes: where am I? I move my hand to brush my hair out of my face -- but I can't move my hand... As I wake up, I find I am restrained, face down on my four poster bed. My hands are pulled down between my legs and tied to my ankles, my legs are pulled up under my body, my face is in a pillow and my bottom is in the air. I am naked, hog tied, and dizzy. Behind me, I hear the voice of my Thai maid, Bee, laughing, "Miss have pink asshole," and she swats my bottom. How did I get here? SATURDAY Last year my boyfriend and I moved to Bangkok; he works for one of those big corporations you've all heard of, and I decided to move with him for the fun of it. Thailand is a beautiful country. The food is delicious, the cost of living is cheap, and the people are lovely. Not long after moving to Bangkok my boyfriend, let's call him X, hired a Thai maid named Bee. She is a beauty: petite curvy body, long black hair, full lips, and large dark eyes you could lose yourself in. Ladies, you should know right now: Bangkok is a wrecker of relationships and marriages. Thai girls go crazy for "farang" (foreign) men. Whether out of genuine attraction, or whether they assume all foreigners are rich, I don't honestly know. I knew Bee could be trouble from the moment I laid eyes on her, but she was sweet natured and shy -- she spoke very little English -- and since my boyfriend was paying the bills I let him pick the help. Bee was a live-in maid who worked Monday through Saturday, and took Sundays off. She cooked, cleaned, and kept the household running. If you've ever been to a Thai house and wondered what the unmarked door is near an apartment's front door, it's the maid's room: basic and small, but clean and comfortable with its own entrance to our apartment (through the kitchen). This is where Bee lived. X loved to have her wear a French maid's outfit while she worked -- a Thai maid in a French outfit, complete with black pumps. Men are so obvious. X spoke Thai well for his business (I had not bothered to learn more than a few words) and I assumed that they talked. Sometimes I suspected X was sleeping with Bee, but when would he have the opportunity? I was around during the day while he was at work. One Saturday morning I woke up late and came to the sun room for breakfast. X was reading the paper, drinking his coffee, and grinning broadly. Where was Bee? Why was X smiling? And whose feet were sticking out from underneath the breakfast table?!? As I came closer, I could hear the clear sounds of Bee sucking X from under the table. Play it cool, I thought, and sat down across the table from X. "Good morning," he said. Before we go any further, and before you discard this story in disbelief, you should understand something about X: he is one of those very wealthy, very handsome men who is used to having his way with business and with women. He is usually faithful to me, but sometimes he pulls stunts to remind me that we are not married and that I have little claim to him. I've never believed men are inherently monogamous, and as long as I don't rise to his bait these incidents are best forgotten as childish outbursts. Back to the story: I drank my coffee, read part of the paper, and permitted myself to peak under the table only once. I could see the back of Bee's head bobbing up and down in X's lap. Even more intriguing though was her bottom. Bunched up as she was under the table, the short maid's dress was not enough to cover her modesty, and a black thong clove the twin halves of a quivering peach. Her ass was breathtaking. While I consider myself straight, I am capable of appreciating beautiful women, and here was a bottom worth appreciating! I half considered reaching under the table to stroke Bee's bum, but X grunted and grabbed the back of her head. He was clearly finished, and she swallowed him without noise or complaint. After a moment, she stood up from under the table, smoothed her dress, and wiped her lips. "Good morning Miss," she said as she cleared the breakfast dishes. She went to make freshly squeezed orange juice, as she does every morning to finish breakfast. As if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, X leaned across the table and kissed my forehead. "So," he said, "I'm going away on business for a few days. Let's spend the day in bed." We did, and he reminded me why I turn a blind eye to his occasional indiscretions: he fucks me so hard and so well. As I sucked him off one last time before going to bed, I couldn't help wonder about Bee's mouth: was it as soft as mine? Could she suck him as well as I could? Is that all she had done for him? SUNDAY Sunday morning X caught a taxi for his trip, and I resolved to remind Bee of her place. Let's be clear: it's one thing to let a boyfriend have his fun from time to time, but you simply must establish that the other woman will always be the outside party, a subservient second. That afternoon, I went to Patpong, Bangkok's night-life district. Patpong is a crowded strip packed with dancers, hucksters, and prostitutes. The sights and smells are pungent, and as you walk the sidewalks you can't help but peek into the open doors of the strip clubs and shops. If that's not enough, touts constantly approach farangs, men and women alike, with pamphlets composed of broken Thai English listing the acts performed behind closed doors -- my favorites being "pussy smoke cigarette" (which I have had the pleasure to witness) and "pussy shoot ping pong ball" (which, sadly, I have not). Anything under the sun related to sex can be found in Patpong, and I discretely slipped into a sex toy shop to buy a toy for my dear, tiny Bee and her naughty round bottom. MONDAY At breakfast the next morning, I set a shiny new silicone butt plug on the table. Bee was a few minutes late preparing breakfast and didn't notice the plug right away, but when she did her eyes widened a bit and she blushed. "Bee," I said, "please bring me a stick of butter." Bee knew this was unusual; I seldom take butter or bread with breakfast, preferring instead to eat the local fruits to keep my figure. Smiling and giggling, she retrieved a stick of butter from the refrigerator and placed it on a dish on the table. Reader, have you ever met a young Thai woman? Smiling, laughing, and blushing can just as often signal discomfort or embarrassment as happiness, and Bee, like many women from her culture, can be very hard to read. I have no idea if she knew what I had in mind for her, but I slowly finished breakfast, letting the butter soften in the heat, and asked her to clear the table. She removed the dishes and my glass, but when she started to remove the dish of butter I touched her hand quickly and said "No Bee, leave that." I touched the butt plug. "Do you know what this is Bee?" "Miss?" she said, and blushed. "Do you know what this is," I asked her again, a bit more forcefully. "Plug, Miss," she whispered, and looked away. "And what does it plug, Bee?" I asked. She mumbled something I couldn't hear, and so I asked her again. This time, she looked me in the eye and said, "Asshole, Miss." It's a funny thing about young Thai women: even if they don't speak much English they know all of the roughest words for the body parts. "For whose bottom, Bee?" I asked. She shrugged her shoulders. "Don't know Miss." I pushed my chair away from the table. "Sit on my lap and I'll tell you, Bee." She sat down and I gently touched her face with my hands, her rounded hips pressing into my thighs. I looked her in the eye and on impulse, I kisser her deeply. Bee was not the first woman I have kissed, but her lips were by far the softest. Her mouth was so yielding, so moist, and she moaned a bit. I whispered in her ear, "The plug is for you Bee. Now stand up and turn around." "Yes Miss," she said. She stood, expressionless, and faced away from me. "Lean across the table Bee," I said, "but keep your feet on the ground." As she leaned over the table her short maid's dress rode up over her cheeks, and for the second time I was simply stymied by the beauty of her bottom. The thong was so narrow that it didn't entirely cover her anus; I could just make out the radial crinkles peeking around the edges of the fabric. I pulled her thong down over the round cheeks to her ankles and she whimpered a bit. "Hand me the butter, Bee," I said, and she passed the dish of butter back to me. Many years before, X had put me through a similar scene with a set of beads to introduce me to the delights of butter and I intended to pay it forward. I took the butter in one hand, and spread her cheeks with the other. Bee didn't squeeze her cheeks together tightly, but she didn't relax or open them for me either. I rubbed the stick of butter first up and down the crack of her bottom, and then in small circles around her most secret and shameful spot, greasing it for the plug. I paused for a moment in surprise: Bee had a light brown anus, beautiful and puckered, hairless and tight, just two shades darker than her skin. I don't know why I was taken aback; I guess I thought everyone's anus was pink like mine. Bee was motionless, and made no sound. "Now hand me the plug Bee," and she did. I rubbed the tip of the plug between her legs and brought it to my lips to see if she were wet. She was -- but only just a bit. And now I must make a confession to the reader, even though it brings me some shame: I didn't care very much whether she was wet or not. Looking back on it, there's no way I can say that Bee consented to what I did next -- she knew that at any time I could have her fired. But at the time I was annoyed at her for sucking off my boyfriend while living under our roof, and equally entranced by her exquisite bottom. I am embarrassed to tell this story as a white woman invading an innocent and powerless brown rosebud, but that it precisely what I did: I took the tip of the plug and held it against her lubricated anus. I said, "Ask for it Bee." She said, "Miss." That was all she could muster, not "No Miss," not "Please Miss," and certainly not "Plug me Miss." But that was enough for me: "Miss." With that, I pushed the tip of the plug past her anus and with one slow, firm motion pressed the entire plug into her bottom. She made no sound, but winced slightly only when the thickest part of the plug pushed past her ring before seating itself between her cheeks. "You like it don't you Bee," I said. "Sluts like it up the ass." No response. "Stay there, Bee, and don't move," I said. I stepped out of the room, and returned a minute later with our old-fashioned polaroid camera. X and I sometimes liked to take pictures of each other when we made love, and always used the polaroid for fear that digital pictures would turn up on the internet. I stood in front of the table and took a picture of Bee's face, flat and angry, staring at the camera. I stuck the picture to the refrigerator, put the camera down, and walked around behind Bee again. I touched her between her legs with my finger this time, and she was still a bit wet, but just barely. I took a moment to appreciate the site: beautiful Bee, bent over the table, thong at her ankles, dress pushed up her back, and a plug planted firmly between her glorious cheeks. "Stand up Bee, and pull up your panties," I said. She did, and I could see that her face was red and her eyes were moist, although she was not yet crying. The scene had not played out exactly as I had imagined it and I felt a bit cruel. Still, I pressed ahead. "You may continue with your duties Bee." As she did each morning after breakfast, she squeezed several oranges and brought me a glass of fresh juice. Her usual graceful gait was altered by the plug in her bottom. As I drank the juice, I said, "I will remove the plug for you when you've finished cleaning the kitchen Bee." "Yes Miss," she said. She nodded her head, and walked away, the plug a hidden reminder of my attempted dominance. When the kitchen was clean, Bee sullenly presented herself by turning around and bending over. I pushed her thong aside and gently pulled out the plug. "While X is out of town, please see to it that the plug and a stick of butter are sitting on the table each morning when I come to breakfast. That will be all," I said, and handed her the plug. I felt a bit embarrassed, and gave Bee the afternoon off. That night I tossed and turned and had trouble sleeping. As I lay in bed alone and touched myself, I thought of the morning's events. Even with Bee's astonishing beauty, the scene felt more clinical than sexy. For all the pleasure Bee had taken from it, she might as well have visited the proctologist. I had taken her body, but not her spirit, and I resolved to make things sexier tomorrow, or at least have more fun trying. TUESDAY The next morning, Bee was a few minutes early for breakfast, and seemed in a much better mood. "Good morning Miss," she said, and even smiled. The butt plug and the dish of butter were on the table next to my breakfast, and when she noticed me eyeing them she blushed and giggled. She seemed anxious for me to hurry up with breakfast, and as soon as she had cleared the dishes she bent over the table without my even asking. Quickly, she pulled up her dress and pulled down her thong, her sweet bottom laid bare for the taking. "My God," I thought, "maybe she really did enjoy herself yesterday and was ashamed to admit it." I pushed away yesterday's concerns about Bee as politically-correct worrying, and told Bee to hand the butter to me. She did, and after doing so she placed her hands on her cheeks and spread them for me! God, I was almost delirious with excitement. I caught my breath, and said "Wider Bee." She moaned and said, "Yes Miss." Spreading her cheeks as widely as she comfortably could, she exposed her pussy and anus to the light and the air and my horny, horny eyes. I took a moment to look at her again: she was so clean. The fleshy halves of her peach were pulled apart by her slender fingers, and her skin was light and free of blemishes. A small patch of hair at the top of her sex was the only hair she had below her waist. Bee had one of those beautiful self-contained pussies with tight lips and a clit that wasn't too hidden. The crack of her cheeks from the small of her back and the slit of her sex were like two intersecting lines that met in a bull's eye at her anus. Her hygiene was so good, she smelled so fresh, and she was so turned on that I couldn't help myself: for the first time in my life I leaned forward and placed a brief, light kiss squarely on another woman's anus. As beautiful and sweet as her pucker was, I kissed it lightly but could not muster the courage to push my tongue past her rim. She pushed back to meet my face, and I briefly thought If I'm dominating her, she should be kissing my ass... I pulled my face away and when I drew a circle around her anus with the tip of the butter, she again pushed herself back to meet my hand. And this time -- this time I could smell her sex intensely. I leaned forward again and lightly traced my tongue along the length of her pussy, stopping at the top to press my lips to her clit as she moaned. After a moment, I said, "Hand the plug to me, Bee." She did, and I felt a tingle between my legs as I said, "Ask for it Bee." "Please, Miss," Bee whimpered. "Please what Bee?" "Please Miss, plug my asshole, plug my -- oh!" she stopped short and gasped as I pushed the tip of the plug past her ring. As with the day before, I did not hesitate. With gentle but steady force I pushed the plug up her ass, and stroked her pussy with my free hand. She pressed herself back onto the plug and with a silent pop it planted itself firmly between her cheeks. She squirmed, and I pumped the plug back and forth ever so slightly. "You like it don't you Bee," I said. "Yes Miss!" she whispered. "How do sluts like it, Bee?" I asked. "Up the ass Miss!" she said, squirming with apparent pleasure. "Your my little Thai slut aren't you Bee?" I demanded, getting carried away. "Yes Miss!" exclaimed Bee. I pumped the plug once more. For a moment I stroked her dripping sex, and she seemed closed to climaxing, but suddenly she stood up and said, "Miss, must get juice." "Of course Bee," I said. "You certainly are eager to serve with a plug up your ass." She blushed in response. As I read a glossy magazine, she prepared my orange juice. When she brought it to the table, I thanked her, and said, "You seemed to enjoy that Bee. I think I have big plans for you today." Bee laughed, openly and happily, in a way I'd almost never seen her laugh. No modesty, just a free and easy, almost American, laugh. She began to clean the kitchen as I finished the juice. Wild thoughts were racing through my head -- she was so turned on by her submission that I knew I could make her my pleasure toy for the day, or the week, or the month. Pushing modesty aside, I decided to touch myself in front of Bee right there at the breakfast table. As she watched, I masturbated and fantasized about her serving me sexually, tonguing me, kissing me, touching me, rubbing me, all the while with the plug firmly planted between her cheeks. I climaxed easily with a moan, and she seemed astonished by the display. I felt exhausted and sleepy after climaxing; maybe I hadn't had enough sleep night before? "Bee," I said, "I'm going back to bed for a while. Don't remove the plug until I come back out and I will remove it for you. You are not to take it out yourself under any circumstances. Do you understand?" "Yes Miss," Bee giggled, and I could see she was flush with sexual tension. I stumbled a bit on my way into the bedroom, the room was spinning, and I decided that a nap was just what I needed, right away, so sleepy... *** "Miss have pink asshole." A voice giggles. Again, "Miss have pink asshole." I'm groggy and confused, waking from what feels like a very deep sleep. I blink my eyes: where am I? I move my hand to brush my hair out of my face -- but I can't move my hand... As I wake up, I find I am restrained, face down on my four poster bed. My hands are pulled down between my legs and tied to my ankles, my legs are pulled up under my body, my face is in a pillow and my bottom is in the air. I am naked, hog tied, and dizzy. Behind me, I hear the voice of my Thai maid, Bee, laughing, "Miss have pink asshole," and she swats my bottom. How did I get here? Why was I so groggy? What was the last thing I did? Kissed her ass? No... plugged her bottom? No... drank the orange juice? And then it came to me -- Bee must have slipped Rohypnol, the "date rape" drug, or something similar into my juice when she made it that morning! As with sex, any kind of drug is available in Patpong and Bee must have found some pills when I gave her the afternoon off yesterday. I shook my head to clear the cobwebs, but that was about as much as I could move; I was securely bound with what felt like leather straps, and angry. I looked at Bee, and she stood next to the bed in her maid's outfit, but with a new addition: a huge blue strap-on dildo hung from her waist, peeking from beneath the front of her dress, lewdly swinging to and fro. "Bee," I said, "stop this now! Untie me!" But all Bee said in response was, "Miss, the plug." "What Bee?" I asked. She kissed me gently, and whispered in my ear, "The plug Miss." She slowly turned, swinging the strap-on in front of her, lifted her dress, pulled down her thong, and stuck out her bottom. The base of the plug mocked me from between her cheeks. My words from earlier that morning came back to me: The Thai Maid Ch. 01 "Don't remove the plug until I come back out and I will remove it for you. You are not to take it out yourself under any circumstances. Do you understand?" Poor, wicked, literal-minded Bee wagged her plugged bottom in my face and laughed. "Big plans for Miss today, big plans..." ~~~ End of Chapter 1 Be sure to read Chapter 2 to find out what happens next! The Thai Maid Ch. 02 TUESDAY It's funny the little details you notice when you are bound and naked. My bedroom's ceiling fan spun lazily, pushing cool air around the room, the breeze reminding me that my bottom was exposed and up in the air. My Thai maid, Bee, stood by the bed, wagging her pretty brown bottom next to my head. Face down, my head was turned awkwardly to look at Bee, who had just reminded me that I made her promise not to take the plug out by herself. Bee giggled and turned to face me. The blue dildo strapped to her waist was so big it looked as if it swung around seconds after Bee did, but I'm sure I was imagining things. She stroked my hair, and whispered in my ear, "Miss so pretty. Miss have pretty pink asshole." I twitched my head to shrug off Bee as best I could, but she just giggled again. Sitting on the bed next to me, she reached back and traced a finger along the length of my pussy... oh... and brought a wet finger back up to my face. "Vicky horny, no?" she said. "No Bee! I am not," I lied. The truth was I was very angry, very humiliated, but very turned on. "Wait," I said, "what did you call me?" "Vicky," Bee said, and looked me straight in the eye. (I think "Victoria" might have been too much for her). "Bee," I said angrily, "you will call me Miss! Now untie me this instant." "No Vicky. You call Bee Miss," she said, and stroked my hair again. This was too much. "Bee, if you untie me right now I'll remove that plug," I said, trying to sound confident. Bee's face went flat and expressionless. Sitting on the bed, she lifted a haunch and reached around behind her. With a slight grimace, she pulled the plug out of her bottom and held it up, glistening, slick, and clean. "Vicky, call Bee Miss." "No Bee! Now obey me and untie me!" I shouted. Again, Bee said quietly, "Call Bee Miss." This time she waved the butt plug in the air to emphasize her point. "What are you going to do, Bee, put the plug in my bottom? You wouldn't dare!" I said, in the iciest tone I could muster. I started to demand yet again that she untie me, but quick as a whip, and before I could react, Bee popped the plug into me -- not in my ass, but into my open mouth! Yuck! I spit it out instantly onto the bed and yelled, "That's enough Bee!" Undaunted and unsmiling, Bee picked the plug up and pressed it to my lips. I closed my mouth tightly, pressing my lips together as hard as I could. It was the only struggle I could manage, because my wrists were still bound to my ankles. Bee pinched my nose shut and waited for a moment until I gasped for air, and then slipped the narrow end of the plug past my lips and forced all but the base into my mouth. With her left hand, she held the plug in place and with her right hand she held the back of my head still, pressing it into the pillow. I struggled, gagging once, and tried to calm down, sucking air through my nostrils. Thankfully the plug was not very big, but still filled my mouth with silicone. Bee relaxed her grip on my head, but only a bit, and smiled again. "Vicky likes the plug," she said. Oh God, how can I admit this to the Reader, or even to myself? The truth is, a part of me did like the plug in my mouth. Bee's bottom was so beautiful and so clean, so tight and so brown, just thinking that the plug had rested in her ass since I planted it there earlier that morning drove me mad with desire. Bee rocked the plug in my mouth gently, and I sucked it like I would suck a cock. The plug was damp, and tasted a bit sour from her body, but was otherwise clean. I marveled again at her hygiene, and prayed she wouldn't command me to worship her ass -- I would have a hard time saying no. She said, yet again: "Call Bee Miss." I shook my head no as much as I could. Bee whispered, "You spit plug when you say Miss," and nibbled the back of my neck. I took her to mean that as soon as I was ready to call her "Miss," I could spit the plug out. Again, I shook my head no. Bee shrugged her shoulders and got up off the bed, leaving the plug propped against a pillow still filling my mouth. She walked out of the room and was gone for a moment. I could hear her looking for something in the kitchen. She returned a minute later with our old-fashioned polaroid camera. Instantly I spit out the plug and shouted, "No! Bee! Put that camera away." Bee simply ignored me and walked around behind me to the end of the bed. I couldn't turn my head far enough to see her, but I could hear her giggling and snapping pictures. I could only imagine what my backside looked like with me trussed like a turkey. I got very angry and said some terrible things to Bee, which I will not repeat here. Bee continued to ignore me and popped the plug back in my mouth, taking a picture quickly before I could spit it out again. I started to cry. Bee stroked my hair and said, "Shhhh... Vicky, shhh..." Softly, she kissed my shoulder. After a gentle nibble, she moved her lips to the top of my spine, and kissed me so delicately that my skin tightened with chills. As she slowly worked her way down my spine, kissing and nibbling and cooing, I could sometimes feel the weight of the fake blue cock bounce against my skin. When her lips arrived at the top of my crack, I moaned, still crying a bit, but so very, very aroused. I could no longer see her, but could feel her presence directly behind me. She kissed one cheek, and then the other, and I waited, hoping to feel her moist kitten's tongue between my cheeks, but she denied me the pleasure I had given her earlier that morning -- after all, she remembered who was serving whom. Bypassing my anus, she gently licked my labia. I don't think I've ever been more wet in my life, and she giggled, I assume at the ample evidence of my state of mind. Kissing, licking, and nibbling my pussy, she traced her fingers up and down my spine and around the cheeks of my ass, occasionally drifting over the pucker of my anus but never pressing entry. After a moment, she gripped one cheek with each hand and pressed both thumbs between my cheeks while she licked my pussy. A few minutes of this and I came gently, all the while moaning and sucking the plug in my mouth. I could feel Bee lift herself, and she let the weight of the squishy blue dildo rest against my tailbone. Drawing her body back slightly, she let the dildo slide down between my cheeks until it came to rest against my anus, a heavy presence waiting for the opportunity to intrude. Oh no, I thought, it's too big. I can't take it there; she'll split me in two! Bee pressed the issue a bit, leaning into my body so the head of the intruder pushed against my anus. I whimpered and tried to relax, unable to move because of the restraints. She pulled my cheeks apart and leaned into me again, the dry blue head pressing my ring back into my body, my anus not opening at all. Bee had not lubed my bottom with anything: not with spit, not with my juice, not with KY, and not with butter. I had no idea how I could accept the dildo without something to slick me down. I couldn't decide whether to squeeze my bottom as hard as I could in an attempt to keep the dildo out, or relax and try to let her take me. Bee pressed again, and I could feel my ring buckling under the weight of the monster. Oh God, this was it -- I could not stand it... Bee whispered, and I could hear the determination in her voice, "Vicky, call Bee Miss. You serve Bee." Utterly defeated, I spit the plug out and cried, "Miss! Miss! Miss! Miss! Oh God, please let me be your maid! Please Miss, please!" ~~~ End of Chapter 2 To be continued in Chapter 3. The Thai Maid Ch. 03 WEDNESDAY I woke with the first light of the day. My room was hotter and more cramped than normal, and for a moment I was disoriented. My bed was small, just a plain double bed instead of the luxurious four poster to which I was accustomed. A full length mirror hung on the wall opposite the bed, and a door led to a tiny bathroom. A small dressing table in one corner, an armoire in another. On a small nightstand sat a butt plug... A butt plug! In a rush the last few days came back to me. I had attempted to dominate my Thai maid, Bee, after catching her sucking my boyfriend, X, under the breakfast table. When X left on business the next day, I forced Bee to wear a butt plug -- the very same plug now sitting on the nightstand -- and told her I'd turn her into a slut. The first time Bee seemed resentful, but the next day when she took the plug in her bottom she seemed eager, even spreading her cheeks for me and asking for it. I should have known better, but I thought I had turned her. Instead, she drugged my orange juice and I woke up trussed like a turkey with my face in a pillow and my bottom in the air -- in my own bedroom! Bee made me suck on her freshly removed butt plug while she threatened to pillage my unlubricated bottom with a huge blue dildo if I wouldn't call her "Miss." What could I do after such humiliation? I called her "Miss" and begged her to let me be her maid! Readers, did you reach the end of Chapter Two with your finger on your clit (or your cock in your hand) only to be frustrated by a cliffhanger? Is that naughty of me? Did you really think Bee -- cruel, funny, sexy, slutty, innocent, beautiful, crafty Bee -- would impale me with her monstrous dong without taking the time to lubricate my bum? I know I feared she would, which is why I agreed to be her maid. But Bee's bark is (sometimes) worse than her bite, and when I promised to serve her and call her "Miss" she laughed and clapped her hands, and smacked my bottom. "Oh Vicky," she said -- and it still grated my ears to hear her call my name after many months of calling me "Miss" -- "Oh Vicky, such big plans for you! Such big plans for your pretty pink asshole!" I blushed, and sighed with pleasure and relief as she slipped the head of the dildo from my ass to my pussy lips and began to press forward. Ladies, you will know this to be true, and Men, you should listen up: When a Man decides to take an interest in your ass, he'll bang you between the cheeks all night long and absolutely forget you even own a pussy. The best that you can hope for is he'll usually tell you to masturbate yourself while he pumps away in your ass, the better to give him a visual thrill or a power trip, I suppose. But a Woman, ah, when a Woman takes an interest in your ass she will never forget you have a pussy, because she has one too, and she knows the cardinal rule: The way to a woman's ass is through her pussy! Bee made love to my pussy with her blue dong for an hour, slow sweet love that made me cum and cum, sliding it in and stretching my sex inch by inch until I was ready for its length and girth to pump gently in and out of my pussy. Bee fucked me so sweetly and so long that I babbled on and on, praising her for her beauty, thanking her for fucking me, praising her for her nastiness -- she had bought the dildo and the bondage gear on her afternoon off when she decided to turn the tables and I couldn't help but fantasize about the other toys she might have for me -- and thanking her again and again for making me cum. I made a dozen different promises, all revolving around serving her, yes, calling her Miss, yes I promise, trading places with her so I would live in her maid's room and wear her clothes and make her breakfast and stuff her plug up my ass each and every morning I promise and she would live in my room and sleep in my huge bed, yes, yes, oh yes I promise, and most of all promising to worship her ass begging her to let me kiss her sweet brown bottom and lick her tight pussy if she would only give me the chance, anything anything anything for her -- except for the blue dildo up my ass, oh anything other than being reamed by that beast. By the time she finished making love to my pussy I was spent, and when she finally removed my leather cuffs and released me I collapsed on the bed. Back in the small room, it came to me: this was the maid's room. This was where Bee normally slept, but I had agreed to trade places with her and serve as her maid -- or however else she wanted to use me. I got out of bed and into the shower. My pussy was still a bit tender from the banging I took the day before. I lathered myself slowly, enjoying my body, and washed every inch. I then dried off and squat over the bidet; the warm water squirting my backside felt lovely, and I wanted to be as clean for Bee as she had been for me. I noticed a large medicine cabinet in the bathroom, but although I was tempted I couldn't bring myself to open it and look through Bee's personal effects without first asking her permission. Finally, I put on a dark red lipstick and stepped out of the bathroom. I stood in front of the full length mirror and admired my physique. When someone wants to possess you as Bee wanted to possess me, you can see yourself through your lover's eyes. Is it conceited to tell you I liked what I saw? I'm a swimmer, and I work to perfect my physique, toned and firm everywhere but hard nowhere except for my flat stomach. I lifted my breasts and looked at them in the mirror: two full globes looked back at me. I've always wished I were a D cup, but I think my breasts are just right for my slender waist. Keyra Agustina's radiant butt.I turned away from the mirror and looked over my shoulder. After my face or my eyes, my ass is probably my best feature: round, firm, and heart shaped, my cheeks flair out dramatically from my waist. When I go to the gym, I constantly do squats and lunges before swimming to firm up my God-given glutes. I could see why Bee would want to have it. I stretched, touching my toes. My hair fell past my face, and I could smell it freshly shampooed and still damp from the shower. I spread my feet a bit, and put my hands on my cheeks. Slowly I pulled myself open and looked at my anus in the mirror. It was pink and tight; Bee had laughed at me when she first saw it: "Miss have pink asshole!" -- my pink looking so different than her brown. I stood up and opened the armoire. There hung Bee's French maid outfit. I took it off the hanger and looked at it. At 5'7", I'm several inches taller than Bee, and my breasts are much larger. I wondered if I could fit into it? Holding it up to my body, I thought I could at least try. I stepped into the short dress and pulled the outfit up over my thighs and my hips. I then slipped my arms into the short sleeves and tried to button up the low-cut white front; I couldn't button the top button. Finally, I tied the short white apron around my waist. I looked in the mirror again. What appeared risqué on Bee looked positively lewd on me, the difference between a dress being "merely tight" and "painted on." Where the dress mostly hid Bee's modesty unless she bent over, my ass cheeks were half exposed even when I stood up straight. My breasts spilled out over the low cut top, and the waist was cinched tightly, accentuating my hourglass figure. I didn't bother with underwear, but for shoes I put on a pair of high heel alligator-skin Manolos that Bee had moved from my closet to the maid's. I looked over my shoulder once more; the high heels toned my legs and turned my ass up a bit. All the better to receive whatever Bee offered. I took the butt plug from the night stand and walked out into the kitchen to prepare breakfast before Bee awoke. In the adjacent sun room, I saw a note on the table, in Bee's loopy handwriting: "Miss can plug." Bee's English was just not good, and I wondered what she meant by that. Did she want me to leave the plug on the table? Or did she want me to put the plug in myself? I got a dish of butter while I thought about it -- and stopped short at the refrigerator. On Monday, I had posted the picture of Bee's face, angry and defiant, while she wore my plug in her bottom. But last night Bee had added the four or five polaroids she took of me to the refrigerator door. Here was an image of my ass in the air, my hands bound to my feet, and my pussy visibly damp even in the low quality polaroid. There was another image of my face, sucking on Bee's butt plug and looking surprised. Then I understood: Bee wanted me to submit willingly to her. When she took the polaroids I assumed she would use them to blackmail me into committing shameful acts, but here they all were on the refrigerator, where I could throw them away if I wanted! Bee knew my submission would be complete, and all the more humiliating, if made of my own free will. After all, I could still fire her. My heart filled with anxiety and longing: all I wanted was to please and serve her. I found a red writing pen in a nearby drawer and took a polaroid off the fridge. I wrote carefully on it for a moment, then put it back on the fridge and surveyed my handiwork. I had picked the polaroid with the clearest view of my bottom and my open cheeks. It looked as if Bee might have been standing right over my rump when she took the shot. I had carefully drawn a circle around my anus, and an arrow pointing to it, followed by the words in block capital letters: MISS, INSERT PLUG HERE I hated to disappoint Bee and wanted to get it right. I decided she must want me to put the plug in myself. Without waiting, I took the stick of butter, squat down, and rubbed it against my anus. I thought back to several years ago, the first time X had fucked my ass with a stick of butter: if he had never done that, I might not have been so quick to lube Bee with the butter this week in my attempt to dominate her. If I had not failed in my attempt to dominate Bee, she might not have decided to make me her servant, and I might not be standing alone in my kitchen rubbing a stick of butter against my anus, hoping for some attention from my Miss. Such are the connections in life. I put a foot up on the chair and with some hesitation reached around to feel my anus with a finger. As much as I love anal stimulation by another, I haven't actually touched myself in that spot very many times in my life, maybe out of the sense that it's indecent? I probed the rim of my ass, and the finger slipped in easily. I decided to apply a bit more butter for safety, and licked the butt plug for good measure. How to put it in? I decided I should insert it as if my Miss were watching, so I leaned over the table and pulled my cheeks apart with one hand and held the tip of the plug against my bottom with the other. Well, here goes nothing, I thought, and pushed the plug up my ass all in one motion, slowly but firmly just as I had done to Bee. OUCH! My asshole was ringing from the popping sensation as the largest point of the plug passed my anus and the base rested snugly against my skin. God that hurt! My eyes watered a bit, and I wondered how Bee could take that without flinching. I stood up, and as my ass adjusted to the plug the stretching discomfort was replaced by a pleasant fullness. I waddled to the kitchen to make breakfast. The smell of food brought Bee out into the sunroom. "Good morning Miss," I said. Bee smiled, "Good morning Vicky." She looked me in the eye and kissed me on the lips. I saw her look for the plug on the table, and not finding it, she smiled again. To be sure, she reached around behind me and thumped the base of the plug with her thumb, which made me jump! "Good Vicky," she said. The she noticed the altered polaroid on the refrigerator and laughed out loud at the circle and the arrow. She clapped, and said "Show, Vicky." I walked to the table and leaned across it, lifting my cheeks for my Miss. Bee just said "Stay, Vicky," and scampered off to the bedroom. A moment later, she returned with a tube of lipstick and the polaroid camera. Without any warning, she gently slipped the plug out of my bottom; I jumped a bit and felt empty. She handed the plug to me and I knew what to do without being told: I put it in my mouth and sucked it like a lollipop. For the second time in two days I sucked on the strange sourness of a plug freshly plucked from an ass, but this time mine instead of Bee's. I could get used to this... Giggling, Bee worked between my cheeks with the lipstick. I felt a strange line start at my tailbone and move downward. Then she held out her hand for the plug. I gave it one last, wet lick -- I knew she wasn't going to re-lubricate my bottom with the butter, so my saliva was all I would get this time. I slobbered on the plug, handed it to Bee, and tried to relax when she stuffed it back up my ass. I was so wet a drop of juice ran down my leg as Bee gently pumped the plug into my bottom. Next, she lifted the camera as I pulled myself open for her and she snapped a picture. She tossed the polaroid on the table and I watched as the image developed. But just as abruptly as she arrived, Bee said "Going out today Vicky." She laughed, smacked my ass once, and left the apartment. I was crazy with desire: I had a well-plugged ass just dying to be pumped, a dripping wet pussy desperately needing a licking or a fucking with the blue dildo, and mad longing -- no, a love -- for my Miss. When she didn't come back an hour later I sadly pulled the plug out of my bottom, washed it, and put it on my nightstand. I wandered the house all day long, cleaning and pacing, crying, and wondering when Bee would return. What had gotten into me? Why was I so needy? Finally, I got ready for bed, but before I went to sleep I found two items. First, I went into the master bedroom and retrieved the big blue dildo. Next, I went to the sunroom and picked up the polaroid Bee had taken of me that morning. I got in bed and left the lights on, the heavy weight of the dildo on the bed next to me. If I couldn't have Bee I wanted a part of her near me, but I couldn't bring myself to use the dildo without her permission. I cried a bit, and looked at the polaroid. Here is the scene: A room, sun-kissed by early morning light, a shapely woman bent over a table. We cannot see the woman's face, but her hair is beautiful as it cascades onto her tan shoulders. Her black maid's dress is obscenely tight, and she's holding her cheeks open for anyone to inspect. A bright red shock of lipstick traces an arrow beginning at her tailbone and ending just above her anus; her tight pink asshole itself is circled like a bull's eye, marking the spot where the base of a large pale plug rests snugly in her ass. God I love that picture. It's the sexiest, most open shot anyone has ever taken of me. No one else will ever capture the essence of me as well as that shot does. Some day soon we will move away from Bangkok, and even if I lose the other polaroids I imagine holding on to this one until it is faded and worn. I will keep it forever. What could I do to prove my devotion to Bee? How could I show her my love? I ached to have her big blue dong fill my pussy the way it had yesterday. I looked at the dong, and thought about sweet, merciful Bee. My fingers had trouble closing themselves around its girth. She knew I couldn't fit that monster into my anus, even for her, and she had not forced it into my ass even when I was bound and gagged and utterly at her command. Whispering "Miss, sweet Miss," and holding the dildo, I fell asleep. THURSDAY I woke early Thursday morning, anxious to see my Miss again. I wanted to race out into the sunroom or the master bedroom and look for her, to fall at her feet and beg for her attention, but I knew I needed to be disciplined. As I did the day before, I carefully showered, washed my hair, and rinsed my bottom in the bidet. I knew Bee was fastidious about hygiene. I then put the maid's uniform back on, slipping its tight fabric up over my thighs, over my curved bottom, and buttoned the top as best I could. Finally, the high heeled shoes completed the outfit. Grasping the butt plug in one hand and the blue dildo in the other, and I stepped out into the sunroom. "Miss?" I said quietly. "Oh Miss?" Someone had clearly been in the sunroom either late last night or earlier this morning; two glasses sat on the table. I sat for a few minutes. Unlike yesterday, Bee had left no instructions, no note on the table. I couldn't wait anymore: I had to see my Miss. I worked up my courage and quietly entered the master bedroom. To my shock, my boyfriend X was lounging in the bed, with Bee lazily holding his cock in her hand! My jaw dropped open and I looked on in amazement -- X had returned early from his trip and had taken my sweet Miss from me! "Good morning Vicky," said X. He looked me up and down, drinking in the site of my curves packed into a French maid's uniform several sizes too small, and his eyes stopped at the huge dildo in my hand. He laughed at me, "God, Vicky, I never knew you were such a size queen!" Miss giggled, but didn't even bother to say anything. "X?" I said, still stunned. I had never dressed up in such a lewd outfit for X before, and between the butt plug, the dildo, and the maid's dress I was truly ashamed. My ears teared up and I blushed fiercely. "Vicky, Bee has explained everything. You will call me Sir. Now go bring us breakfast in bed, and be quick about it." ~~~ End of Chapter 3 To be continued in Chapter 4. The Thai Maid Ch. 04 THURSDAY I stood in the kitchen, shaking with rage, and fought back my tears. In one hand, I held a butt plug. In the other, I gripped a blue dildo so large that I had trouble closing my fingers around it. A too-tight French maid's uniform squeezed my chest, my breath racing. A series of Polaroids posted on the refrigerator tells the story: The first Polaroid showed a close-up of Bee's face, defiant, staring at the camera. I had found Bee, my Thai maid, giving head to X, my boyfriend. I decided to dominate her as punishment to remind her who was in charge, so when X left on business I bought a butt plug and forced Bee to wear it on Monday. Bee wasn't at all happy about this, and it shows in the look on her face in that first picture. The next set of Polaroids show me -- bound against my will -- in various states of compromise. On Tuesday, Bee had pretended to submit, pretended to be eager to serve me, and pretended that she couldn't wait to wear the plug. Her eagerness when she had been so sullen the day before should have tipped me off. But I was so tantalized by plugging Bee's ass that I didn't notice when she slipped a drug in my morning juice. I woke up on my own bed, hands and feet bound by leather cuffs, my face in a pillow and my ass in the air. I demanded that Bee release me, but she simply pulled the plug out of her ass and stuck it in my mouth. One Polaroid showed me sucking the sour plug, fresh from Bee's bottom. Another Polaroid showed the plug stuck up my own backside, and in my will to serve bee I had scribbled lewd writing on it. In my bedroom, I had yet another Polaroid, this one my most personal and prized picture. Bee had taken an image of me on Wednesday bending over the table, wearing her maid's outfit, utterly submissive. My hands held my cheeks open so Bee could get a better view of the plug she had stuffed up my ass, and a red ring of lipstick drawn by Bee circled my anus (and the plug) like a bull's eye. By then, I had fallen in love with Bee and only wished to serve her, but she left the house that morning and I pined all day in her absence, eventually going to bed alone. I woke up this morning to discover X, my boyfriend, had returned early from his business trip and taken my dear Bee from me. He even had the nerve to tell me to call him Sir! Although now that I think about it, I didn't say no... And what was this? A new Polaroid had been added to the collection on the refrigerator, this one of Bee sucking a cock! The shot was taken from a man's perspective -- the man in the image clearly being my boyfriend -- looking down on the fellatrix. Bee's huge, dreamy eyes stared up at the camera as her mouth stretched to fit X's cock. Had they taken this picture last night while I was sleeping? Had they taken it before X left on business? I was so angry at X for taking Bee away from me, for telling me to call him Sir, and for the offhand way he assumed he could dominate me. Sure, he had dominated me in the past, but never in such a sneaky or casual fashion. What should I do? What could I do? I had promised a dozen times over the past few days that I would serve Bee as her maid and call her Miss; the list of promises I made in my frenzied climaxes was probably too long to count. The only thing I had specifically told her I could not do was take the blue dildo up my bum -- it was just too big. I think she understood. Worse than that, though, I had fallen madly in love with her. I had to be near her, I had to serve her, and right now she was serving X, so I decided I would too. I breathed deeply, smoothed my tight skirt, and calmed down. Time to make breakfast for Sir and Miss. Leaving the big blue dong on the sunroom table, I prepared a breakfast tray for the bedroom: french toast, freshly sliced fruit, syrup, coffee, juice, a stick of butter, and the butt plug (a girl has to have her hopes after all). As I approached the bedroom door, I could hear groaning and cooing. I straightened my back, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. "Sir? Miss?" I said. "Breakfast is ready. May I bring it in?" I thought I heard X groan in assent, so I pushed the door open. Sometimes our eyes take in the little details and miss the big picture: The first thing I noticed was a stick of butter in a dish on the nightstand; I had been so shocked to see X that I had overlooked it earlier. But my eyes widened as I witnessed more of the scene: X lay on his back in the bed, and Bee squatted above his midsection, straddling his body with her feet and facing away from him. I was transfixed by the sight and the sound, Bee going "oh oh oh Sir oh oh" and X groaning, Bee's taut thighs straining as she would squat and then raise herself again, squatting and lifting, squatting and lifting, the sweat on her forehead glistening in the morning light and her beautiful grimace, her petite hands -- one hand on the bed to help her balance, the other stroking her pussy -- with their beautiful and slender fingers, and finally, oh, finally, the site of X's erect cock sliding in and out from between Bee's sweet round cheeks. He was fucking her ass. Mesmerized, I put down the tray and stood next to the bed. They both ignored me, so I knelt at the foot of the bed to watch, not knowing what to do otherwise, and longing for attention. From this angle, X's feet faced me as his toes pointed toward the ceiling. He placed his hands on Bee's ass, one hand on each cheek, and slowly pushed her up from her squatting position. The head of his cock, buttered and bright purple, popped out of Bee's anus and she cried "oh Sir! Put back in! Put back in!" X, still with one hand on each of Bee's cheeks, placed his thumbs on her anus and pressed. His thumbs dug into her gently and firmly, and she lowered herself back down onto his cock. I watched in awe as his entire cock disappeared into her ass, as she slowly settled herself onto him, and finally, her cheeks rested squarely on his hips. "Now bounce," he commanded. "Yes Sir," said Bee. With both hands on the bed, she bounced her ass in his lap, his cock pistoning in and out of her anus. Their bodies smacked together and she cried "oh oh oh oh." I looked at Bee's face and wondered if she'd ever had her ass fucked this vigorously -- her beautiful features were twisted, partly from pleasure and partly from pain, and her eyes were shut tight. I could see past his muscular thighs to his balls, and as I watched them tighten and heard his breathing quicken I knew from experience he was close to cumming. Suddenly, X grabbed Bee's hips and held her still, her ass tight against his hips. He groaned loudly as he climaxed, and Bee's eyes popped open either in surprise or delight at her impalement. X's fingers dug into Bee's soft skin as he pumped his load into her, and a beatific smile spread across Bee's face. God she was so beautiful. Reader, I couldn't help myself: I know I wasn't invited, but I leaned over the bed to dab the perspiration of my Miss's brow. But Bee flicked my hand away, and shot me a look of annoyance. Her master was back, and I had been pushed aside. X's breathing slowed as he recovered from his climax, and he seemed to notice me for the first time. "Ah, Vicky," he said, "You're just in time. Come lie down next to me." "Yes Sir," I said. Crawling into bed next to X, I looked at the smooth brown skin of Bee's beautiful back. "Isn't she lovely?" asked X. My heart swelled in my chest and I couldn't speak, so I nodded hastily -- yes! X again placed his hands on Bee's bottom, and gently pushed her up off his hips. His cock slipped out of her ass, and he said "Keep squatting Bee." "Yes Sir," she said. A merely competent servant listens to her master, and carries out each order with alacrity. But a proper servant anticipates her master's needs and carries them out without needing instruction. I looked at Bee's beautiful ass again. Each cheek was like a fine round goblet, and I knew X wanted me to drink from it. I looked him in the eye and raised an eyebrow. He simply nodded, and I slid down the bed. "Bee," said X, "squat over Vicky's face." Bee giggled, and said "Yes Sir." Bee did as she was told, squatting above my face. X slipped off the bed and wandered over to the breakfast tray, turning his back to me. God, how arrogant he was. I placed a trembling hand on each of Bee's cheeks and pried them apart. I didn't know if I could do what X wanted me to do, and I felt a knot in my stomach. Bee let her weight rest partly on my hands. Here is what I saw: Bee's tight soft pussy smiled sideways at me and appeared wet but un-mussed. It didn't appear that X had taken her there this morning. Even so, her thighs were sticky and fragrant with her pussy juice; she had clearly enjoyed having her ass fucked. And her ass -- oh God, her ass. Her cheeks were a bit flushed from the pounding, and sweat lined her crack from the exertion. Her anus, normally tight and brown, had taken on a slight pink hue. Butter, X's favorite lubricant, was smeared around her anus and her crack; I imagine he had to work pretty hard to get his big cock up that tiny ass. My arms were beginning to tire from holding Bee's weight, so I surrendered to the inevitable: I lowered her ass until her anus hovered directly above my eyes. I wanted to stare as closely as possible at that most intimate spot on Bee's body, to drink in her anus with my eyes before I drank it with my mouth. I then moved my head a bit and rubbed my nose against her ass, breathing as deeply as I could. God! She was so clean, how did she do it? Even after the butter, even after X's cock came and went, Bee's fresh scent filled my lungs. On Tuesday morning, when Bee was still pretending to submit to me, I had kissed her anus on impulse, but at that time I could not bring myself to move my tongue past my lips and into her ass. That was something I had never done to another woman, but I was determined not to miss the opportunity again. I loved my Miss and wanted to worship every inch of her. I had fantasized about her body as I slept alone in my maid's room , and so I did it -- I lowered Bee's ass to my mouth, pressed my lips to her bottom and traced a circle around her anus with my tongue. God, she tasted so good. I licked her ass again; Bee made no noise in response. Didn't it feel good? Didn't she want to feel my lips pressed against her ass to see how much I loved her? Instead, she stiffened up a bit. In management lingo, you could say that Bee "kisses up and kicks down." Now that she had her Sir back, she was happy in his arms and didn't care how I felt. First, she took her hands off the bed and let the full weight of her ass rest on my face, making it hard for me to breath. Next, she held her hands on her cheeks and pulled them apart even further, stretching her well-fucked anus and said in a harsh tone: "Vicky, tongue my asshole." I tried to say "Yes Miss" but her ass smothered my face, so I wasted no time: I snaked my tongue out again and pressed it directly in the center of her rosebud. I wanted to lick her inside and out. But Bee wasn't cooperating; even though she had just been fucked she was squeezing her ring tightly shut, denying me the juice she knew Sir wanted me to drink. I tried again, this time swirling my tongue around her rim without trying too hard to press in, big, flat-tongued licks combined with little darts from the tip of my tongue. This time, she moaned and sighed -- even if she was determined to be angry with me she couldn't ignore the loving attention. I could feel her anus begin to relax again, and loved the salty, earthy taste as I drove my tongue deep up her ass. This went on for a moment, then Bee said: "Vicky, suck my asshole." Oh God, Readers, I am so ashamed to write this: I made a ring with my lips and formed a seal against her anus. I sucked her asshole as if I were starving. She moaned and thrashed. I pushed my tongue as deeply as I could into her, and then sucked again. I couldn't help myself: without asking permission I reached one hand around Bee's front and put my hand on her drenched pussy, only to discover that one of her hands was already there. I helped her rub herself gently, and she didn't push away the attention. I went on eating out her asshole while we both rubbed on her pussy and clit. She rocked on my face; I can't say the smothering and the pressure were comfortable but I was crazy in love with my Miss. Rocking and sucking, rocking and sucking, stroking and sucking, moaning and sucking, Miss's anus became more and more relaxed. Her breathing hastened, hastened, hastened, until suddenly she drew all her breath in and held still. Bang! Her orgasm hit her and she let everything out in a rush. The breath left her body, and as her pussy squeezed with pleasure her asshole twitched and relaxed and I sucked and sucked and sucked feeling it twitch against my lips until X's cum burped out of Bee's ass and into my mouth. Oh God! how to describe the incredible taste? Readers, have you ever been to Southeast Asia? In that part of the world grows a fruit called Durian. It's smell is so objectionable that most hotels have signs forbidding guests from carrying the Durian fruit indoors. But the taste -- once you have tasted one you cannot imagine what your life was like before you tasted the Durian. People get hooked on Durian and will go to any lengths to get it. I tasted X's cum as it sat in my mouth fresh from Bee's asshole and knew I had found my Durian. So clean, but so sour, I could not bring myself to swallow this gift from my Miss because I did not want to forget the taste. As I savored my mouthful of cum, Bee suddenly pulled herself off me and turned around. Without warning, she lay down on top of me and kissed me deeply. She wanted to taste Sir's cum as badly as I wanted to taste her ass, and we swirled our tongues together and pressed our lips passionately, both of us swallowing and licking. Bee raised a knee and pressed her thigh between my legs; I was so wet her leg slipped, so she anchored herself on the sheets and again pressed her thigh to my pussy. Locking lips, we rocked together silently like this, both of us exploring the other's chest with our hands: Bee feeling my big white tits and tweaking their pink nipples, me feeling Bee's smaller brown tits with their tight brown nipples. I opened my eyes briefly as in a waking dream and saw my Bee, my dear sweet Miss, crying. Oh God! Did this mean she loved me as much as I loved her? I kissed the tears from her face and rocked my pussy against her thigh and came and came and came with my Miss holding me tightly... I must have dozed off for a few minutes after climaxing, because when I woke up X was sitting at the foot of the bed, eating a piece of fruit from the breakfast tray. Bee was sitting next to him, stroking his hair. Whatever she felt for me moments before I climaxed, she had hidden it again; the Ice Princess had returned and it was if I didn't exist. I thought I'd try my luck with X instead. I slid down to the end of the bed and gently kissed his shoulder. His cock was still limp from cumming so recently, but I thought I could fix that. I kissed his chest; he is very fit and knows I might leave him if he ever got soft. I lightly bit his nipple, got no response, and so I bit it again, harder this time. I moved my hand over to his cock, which was still a bit damp from fucking Bee's ass. "Sir," I said, "let me clean you with a wash cloth." "No Vicky," Bee said, and pointed to his penis, "mouth." I looked at her and wondered how many ways she was willing to humiliate me. Still, I had just sucked X's cum right out of her ass, so why couldn't I suck his cock clean? "Yes Miss," I said, and kissed my way down his chest. I put my head in his lap, looking his flaccid cock eye to eye, as it were. Readers, have I told you he has a beautiful cock? I've been so wrapped up writing about Bee that sometimes I forget that I had a fit, smart, wealthy cocksman on my arm. I nibbled the head of his cock, and it twitched. The same sour, intoxicating taste of Durian that I got from Bee's asshole wrapped X's cock, and I loved it. Taking this as a good sign, I pressed him back on the bed and got between his legs. Again, I looked at his cock. He doesn't shave, but he trims himself well and keeps himself clean. I took the head in my mouth, gently sucking. I could still taste Bee's asshole on my tongue and I was thrilled to complete the circle: his cock to Bee's ass, Bee's ass to my mouth, my mouth to his cock. It twitched again and started to grow. Ever since I was a teenager and gave my first blowjob, I've loved the sensation of a soft cock growing hard in my mouth; it makes me feel so powerful and sexy. I looked up and made eye contact with X, who of course was watching me. This seemed to give X an idea. "Bee," he said, "get the plug." "Yes Sir," Bee said, and smiled as she got the butt plug from the breakfast tray. "Now Bee, put the plug in Vicky's ass," X said. "Yes Sir," she said. When Bee moved to get the butter for lubricant, X said, "No Bee, that won't be necessary." Bee laughed; she was happy to hear that she could plug my ass without butter. I think she was jealous of Sir's attention. I could feel Bee kneel behind me, and tried to relax in preparation. X's cock was getting hard at an amazing rate. I could tell this was really turning him on. He lifted his head so he could see over my shoulder. Bee pressed the tip of the plug against my dry anus and I flinched, but I didn't stop sucking. X said, "No Bee, not like that." Bee said "Sir?" X said, "You have to help her Bee." Bee looked unsure of herself, and said "Sir?" X said, "With your mouth Bee, with your mouth." "Sir?!?" Bee sounded wounded. "Bee," said X, "don't make me ask twice." He added something in Thai. "Yes Sir," said Bee, and sighed. I kept sucking cock, but my heart was racing. I tried to stay calm, but jumped a bit when the top of Bee's warm tongue touched my anus. Oh.... I moaned around X's cock. Bee licked again, and I was mad with desire. I wished I could take a Polaroid of this moment like she had done to me! I felt her pull away from my ass briefly. She spit on my asshole and smacked one cheek, hard! I cried out a bit -- that hurt! And it seemed so disrespectful, like something straight from a porn movie. She spit again, and spanked the other cheek. "Kiss it Bee," X growled, and Bee returned her face between my cheeks. How was I to feel? I loved Bee with all my heart, and only wanted to serve her and make her happy. She was making no secret of the fact that she didn't want to be kissing my ass, whether for personal taste or because she thought it improper for a Miss to kiss her maid's anus, I don't know. At the same time, even though I felt badly for her, it felt soooo goddamn good. She flicked her tongue in and out, up and town from my the slit of my pussy to the top of my tailbone and back again, often stopping to lick and nibble my clit. She really knew how to lick a pussy. My bottom began to feel squirmy and I tried to push myself back onto Bee's face but she pulled away. I bobbed my head up and down X's now hard cock. Bee took her mouth from my ass and I could hear her lick the plug like a lollipop. X was getting into it, sometimes laying flat on his back, sometimes looking over my shoulder at the action behind my ass. He gently held the sides of my head, running his fingers through my hair. Bee pressed the tip of the plug against my anus and I again tried to relax. I knew it was coming any time, and her spit had lubed me as much as I was going to be lubed (which was actually pretty lubed -- she sure could lick a girl). My pussy was tingling from the attention and the anticipation. Bee nestled the head of the plug inside my anus and let it rest there a moment. X said, "Ready Bee?" The Thai Maid Ch. 04 "Yes Sir!" Bee said. "OK Bee," X said. "Now." Two things happened at once: Bee stuffed the plug in my ass, not gently, and not slowly, and when the thick part passed my anus it hurt, I mean really hurt. I would have yelped "Owwwwwww!!!!" but at the same time Bee was plugging me so vigorously, X grabbed the back of my head and stuffed his entire cock in my mouth, momentarily gagging me -- "MMmmmmpphhh--aaaaccckkk!!" is what I think I said. The head of his cock filled the back of my mouth. X has fucked me long enough to know I really love a mouthful of cock. Bee laughed and clapped her hands, and gave the base of the plug a thump with her finger. She slid her body next to mine and bit my ear, a bit gently, a bit not. I pulled my mouth off X's cock and turned to kiss Bee. I could taste my ass and pussy on her face. She kissed me briefly, but then took the head of X's cock in her mouth and sucked gently, darting and swirling her tongue. This was a bit intimidating -- I knew how good Bee was with her tongue, and X was my boyfriend after all. To compete, I kissed my lips up and down X's shaft. X started to moan. This went on for a few minutes, but when I saw Bee briefly come up for air I quickly moved my mouth back to X's cock head and pumped his shaft with my hand. Bee forced herself back into the mix and we both licked X's head, our tongues darting against each other and around his member. The pumping and the sucking were beginning to have their effect: I have fucked X for many years but seldom have I seen his cock as hard as it was on that day when both of our tongues danced for his pleasure. I pushed X's legs wider apart as he held one hand on each of our heads. I kissed the inside of his thighs, but decided to up the ante. I gently lifted his balls with my hand and took one into my mouth, rolling it like the most delicate marble in the world. X went wild, groaning and cursing. Bee frowned at me reached behind my back. I nodded to her, thinking she was going to play with my pussy but she grasped the base of my buttplug and with one quick motion she plucked it almost entirely out (oh!) and then instantly popped it back in (OW!). I yelped, and sat back on my haunches to massage my aching bottom. With her slender fingers, Bee lifted the sac of his balls and traced a line along his perineum. She was so beautiful and nasty and crafty that I couldn't help but sit back and watch as she bobbed her head back onto his cock and pressed a finger gently against his anus without entering. She then pulled her lips back from her teeth, opened her mouth wide, and -- gagging only just a little -- deep-throated X while she tickled his ass with her finger. "Oh god oh god oh god you win!" groaned X, although I distinctly did not remember his mentioning a contest. But he was right; Bee was a head magician. I slumped, feeling defeated, my anus aching from Bee's dirty trick. Bee extracted X's cock from her throat and said something to him in Thai. He answered, "OK, but don't take long." Bee got up and opened the nightstand. She returned to the base of the bed with the same leather cuffs she used to bind me on the Tuesday. She pointed across the room and said "Vicky, corner." She did not smile. I hung my head, and said "Yes Miss." I waddled to the corner, my poor bottom still aching, and looked imploringly at X, but he simply shrugged. I held out my hand for the first leather cuff, and Bee strapped it on my wrist. Each cuff was separate, one for each wrist and one for each ankle. They could be hooked together ankle to ankle, and wrist to wrist, but a separate loop also attached the wrists to the ankles. When Bee had secured all four cuffs on my wrists and ankles, she turned me around to face the corner said "Vicky, down." "Yes Miss," I said, and I got on my hands and knees. Next, she hooked the ankle cuffs together. The floor was hard and I said to X, "May I have a pillow please Sir?" X tossed a pillow across the room, and I put it on the floor in front of my face. Bee then hooked the wrist cuffs together and I put my face down and pushed my cuffed hands under my body and back toward my ankles. Bee hooked the final link, and I was stuck: face on the pillow, hands bound to feet, and bum in the air. I knew from seeing pictures of myself from Bee's Polaroids that the maid's skirt hiked up around my waist looked like a flower blooming around my bottom. She gave my butt plug one last out-in pump and walked away without a smile. I could turn my head a bit, and following Bee's path with my eyes as she walked into the bathroom. She came out a moment later with a jar of vaseline, and then walked toward the bed -- well out of my line of site. It's a funny thing about sex that you don't realize until you've experienced it: most of the stimuli is generated by sight or by touch, by taste and by smell. Sound by itself is a distant fifth in communicating the sexual experience, especially if it's all you have. And if you can't understand the language of the dirty talk, what's left? I could hear Bee get on the bed; I could hear them whispering to each other in Thai; I could hear Bee cooing and giggling. And then I heard the jar of vaseline being unscrewed, and someone slurping, and a strange squishing, and a high moan coming from X. Bee was asking him quiet questions in Thai and he kept saying "yes, yes, yes" in response to each question. His voice was strangely muffled. More pumping, more squishing, and an endless stream of low whispered Thai, which I could not understand. This went on for some time before Bee said "Oh Sir!" and they both cried out "aahhhhh........" and fell silent. I think this was the lowest point so far with Bee. Across the room, in my presence but behind my back, she was doing God knows what with my boyfriend -- maybe something I'd never even tried before! Who knew? And what did they want with a bound woman in the corner with her face on the floor and a plug in her ass if they weren't even going to use her? Why was I even here? God, I felt so useless and sorry for myself. If this was what staying in Bangkok meant, I wanted to go home, home, home, to leave this damn city or jump out a window or jump out of my skin but if I left I would miss my Miss, my beautiful Bee, the beautiful Bee whose skin smelled so clean and whose breasts were so small and firm and whose asshole tasted like Durian and all I wanted was for her to love me or if she couldn't love me at least to let me love her and I was sorry I ever competed with her for anything and she was better than me in every way and I would do anything at all for her and if she wanted me to whore myself to strangers on the streets of Patpong or die my skin and paint my asshole brown so I could look more like her or learn Thai or sit in my maid's room and wait for her to come in and piss on my face or cook for her or drink X's cum out of her ass every day or clean for her or beg her to fist my asshole or learn all of her tastes and taste her food for her before she ate it and send it back to the chef unless it were just right so she would never ever have to take a mediocre bite of food again in her life anything anything anything I would do it if she would only let me love her ... Reader, I will stop here. Recalling this hour of my life is painful to me, but I must. What I cannot remember is when the maddening thoughts stopped ricocheting in my head and started coming out of my mouth. I don't know how long I went on like this, but at some point between my sobbing and the words streaming out of my mouth I just lost it. I cried and cried and when I looked up from my pillow X and Bee were standing above me, watching. X looked concerned, but Bee just looked cold and hard. I tried to get a hold of myself and stop crying, I think I was hyperventilating, but all I could do was look at Bee and whisper "anything anything anything..." She spoke to X in Thai. He thought for a moment, and then he nodded. She looked at me again and smiled; after all, victories don't come more definitive than this. She leaned down and whispered two words in my ear: "Vicky. Blue." "Oh God, yes!" I said, "Please fuck me with your big blue cock. Please! I need it, I need it, I need it, thank you, thank you." I collected myself enough to tell her it was still in the sunroom. Bee walked out of the room and returned a moment later with the blue monster. God, I could not wait for my Miss to stuff my pussy with that thing; it was so much bigger than even X's cock. The one time she fucked me with it previously was the sweetest fuck of my life. My pussy twitched in anticipation and I smiled. Miss wanted me again. I could hear her walk to the nightstand and pull something out. When she stepped back into my narrow field of vision I could see that she had put on her strap-on harness, and she leaned down, pushing the dong toward my face. I kissed its massive tip, but I couldn't wait, and said "Please Miss, fuck me, please hurry." Bee patted my head. In Thailand, this is one of the most insulting things you can possibly do to a person, and it shows an absolute lack of respect. And what had I done to deserve her respect, I thought, she was right, I am so much lower than her I'm not even worthy... I wiggled my hips and moaned. My pussy was so wet it shouldn't be to hard to accept that monster if I just stayed calm and relaxed. Bee squatted down behind me. I couldn't see her, but I could hear her giggle. She rubbed the head of her fat blue cock against my pussy lips and I nearly came from the anticipation. Oh god, I thought, here it comes! I felt a strange tugging behind me, and realized Bee was gently pulling out my butt plug, not yanking it out like she had earlier. Mmmm.... the motion felt good, even though my bum was sore. But I was sad to see it go; I liked the fullness, and I liked the submission. I was looking forward to having her fuck my pussy with the blue dong while the plug was still in my ass... "Miss?" I asked. "Shhh...." said Bee, and stroked my hair. She laid the fat dong on my back, and I trembled at the weight of it. God, I thought, please hurry up and put it in my pussy, but I didn't dare ask her again. She slowly pulled her body back, and the dong traced its way down my spine, giving me goose bumps as it went. I flared my hips out as much as I could given the constraints of my bonds, and heard X say "Mm, mm, mm" with admiration. So close, the tip of the dong reached the small of my back and my pussy twitched again. So close, it was so close, the tip of the dong crossed over my tailbone. I couldn't wait and wiggled my hips again. Closer, closer, closer, I was going to get what I needed, what I deserved. Bee placed her hands on my hips -- I could tell she was really going to drive it home. The dildo slipped a bit lower... Closer, closer... ...and it came to rest against my asshole. "Oh God, Miss is teasing me," I said, and giggled nervously. "Please fuck me, please fill my pussy with your dildo." "Shhh...." whispered Bee, and she moved her hands from my hips to my cheeks. "Miss?" I said, voice trembling. "Shhh.... Vicky, Miss love you," said Bee. She slowly pulled my cheeks open. "Miss?!?" I said, and started shaking. My emotions had gone on such a roller coaster, I felt so brittle, so used -- wanting to be used and hating to be used at the same time. "Miss?? Fuck my pussy?!?" I whispered. Bee said nothing, but leaned the weight of her body forward. To my bound form, it felt like all of the weight of her petite figure, all of the weight of the enormous dong, and all of the weight of the world were concentrated into one massive fist and that fist was pressing on my asshole. I sobbed, I had been tricked, and Bee was going to ruin me. The dong had a bit of lube from the juice of my pussy, but that was it. Bee leaned forward again, and my asshole trembled but didn't give way. I started to panic and couldn't relax. I strained against my bonds, but the leather cuffs were too tight for me to move. I cried and cried as Bee applied more pressure on my asshole, and I could feel my ring beginning to open... ...and I burst out pleading "Sir I can't I can't I can't please don't let her do it Sir make her stop I can't she'll kill me with that thing oh god Sir!" And what do you know? X had a bigger heart than Bee. He spoke to her in Thai. She hissed back at him, she was angry. She forced the dong against my hole again, but half-heartedly, and it didn't budge. He spoke again more forcefully, and she said "Yes, Sir." The weight was lifted from my anus. She stood up suddenly and spat on my back. I heard her take the dildo from its harness, and she shouted at me words that I will never forget: You no goddamn maid! With that, she threw the dildo at me and stormed out of the bedroom. X unlocked my bonds, but did not remove the cuffs from my ankles and wrists. "Come on," he said gently, and helped me shakily to my feet. "I'll be back in a minute," X said. He followed Bee into the sunroom, and I could hear them arguing in Thai, with Bee employing some of her large vocabulary of English curse words. What do I do? I thought. Is it possible to simply disappear, to curl yourself up into a ball and wink yourself out of existence? How could I have failed my Miss and panicked so badly? I took a deep breath, and walked into the sunroom. X was sitting at the table, and Bee was pacing back and forth. Thai people don't get angry very easily, but when they do they get wound up tight and you do not want to get in their way. "Bee's moving out," X said, as calmly as possible. She spoke to him in Thai, and this set off another round of bickering. "I'll do it," I whispered. They argued more, X trying to calm down, Bee getting progressively more worked up. I took a deep breath. "I'll do it," I said a bit louder. They paused. "Really?" said X. This set of another round of Thai invective, with Bee gesturing toward me and spitting on the floor. "She said she doesn't trust you. She says you're no good to her unless you do what she says, and you've already turned her down twice," said X. This was all true. I didn't know what else to do, so I gathered my strength and climbed on top of the breakfast table, where everything began several days before. I turned away from both of them, pressed my face against the cool surface of the table, raised my ass into the air, put my hands on both cheeks and said: "This. You own this, Miss. I'm sorry. I thought I owned it, or X owned it, but I was wrong." I could hear X quietly translating my words into Thai. To emphasize my point, I spread my cheeks for her, and I went on: "I thought I could set limits, but I was wrong. You don't rent it, Miss, you own it." Everything was quiet for a moment. I could not believe I was lying on my table and saying these things to a Thai maid, but as I said them I got wetter and wetter. I said them because I believed them, and I still believe them. I continued: "No more games. I thought we were playing games. I was a little girl playing dress up, but I was wrong. You own it." I could feel a drop of pussy juice roll down the inside of my thigh. I continued: "My ass. No conditions. I love you, and I would say that I give my self to you but my self isn't even mine to give away. You. Own. It." Silence. Bee spoke quietly and forcefully in Thai to X. It sounded as if she were listing bullet points. Then, she did something that surprised me: she stepped forward and stuck her thumb up my ass. Not a finger, not a tongue, not a butt plug, but a thumb. X stepped around the table and pulled up a chair, sitting down in front of me. He spoke in a flat voice, and said, "She says she agrees. She says she's glad you've come to your senses but she's not sure she can trust you." He looked over my shoulder, to where Bee stood behind me with her thumb up my ass. Bee twitched her thumb inside me; I assume she nodded for X to go on, but I couldn't see her. X continued, "She says I'm to leave the house for the rest of the day and not come back before midnight. She says she wants to have you alone, and she says she'll have her mind made up by the time I get back." X leaned closer to me. "Vicky," he said, "In the bedroom today, if I hadn't been there she wouldn't have stopped. Bee is much harder than I am. If you agree, I can't come running back to rescue you. You're on your own. Do you understand that?" I nodded, my heart caught in my throat. I couldn't speak for a moment. Bee twitched her thumb in my ass again, and asked X a question in Thai. X sighed, and said, "She wants to know whether you agree. She wants to know whether you are through wasting her time, whether you're ready for her to take what is hers." Reader, a tear rolled down my cheek, and I looked over my shoulder at Bee. I said two words, and two words alone: "Yes Miss." ~~~ End of Chapter 4 To be continued in Chapter 5. The Thai Maid Ch. 05 Previously: I had angered Miss that afternoon by refusing for the second time to let her sodomize me with a monstrous blue dildo, and she had rejected my services as her maid, I feared once and for all. In a fit of quiet desperation, I climbed on the kitchen table and offered her my bottom: I told Miss that she owned me. Miss relented and sent X, my boyfriend, away. They agreed that she would have me to herself for the night: no interference, no rescue, only submission. 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: The Thai Maid Ch. 05 "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 jello. 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. ~~~ End of Chapter 5 To Be Concluded in the Epilogue (Chapter 6) The Thai Maid Ch. 06 FRIDAY, TWO 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. 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 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"