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?